


Tales of the Inquisitor and Her Commander

by TinaOnTheAstralPlains



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grief/Mourning, High Fantasy, Horses, Light Angst, Nuggalopes, Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinaOnTheAstralPlains/pseuds/TinaOnTheAstralPlains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dragon Age FanFic set during the Inquisition: Isabeau Trevelyan, a former Circle mage, journeys through life as the daughter of a noble family who now leads a world-changing movement, as she deals with the grief over losing her father and three brothers, and learns when to roll with the punches and when to punch back.  She meets Commander Cullen, a former Knight-Commander of the Templars.  They get to know each other, and find out if a mage and a Templar are romantically compatible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakenings

**Author's Note:**

> A continuing journey with updates, told in first person point of view.

Chapter 1: Awakenings

  


I thought my new life first started when I awoke on a dusty straw mattress in wooden shack. A healer hovered over me with a foul smelling vial, urging me to drink, the whites of his eyes showing. He wanted to kill me. It made me want to kill him.

I didn’t get the chance. A tall, thin, dark haired woman walked in, shooing away the healer. She took a seat on the edge of my cot and placed a hand on my forehead, another on my cheek. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked in a thick Nevarran accent.

I stared at her.  I don’t know how I’m feeling. Awake. Alive. These seem like poor answers. I feel that she’s looking for more.

“Can you come with me?” She’s anxious. Worried.

I got up. I was filthy. My clothes are torn, and blood-stained. My hands are bandaged. I can tell they’ve been healed recently. They still feel scraped up, although I know that as I take off the bandages they’ll look just fine for one who has lived the life of a Circle Mage.

She helped unwind the bandages, still looking worried. Her brow was furrowed. She wore black armor and a sword. The crest on her breastplate looks familiar, though I have trouble placing it. 

I realize I don’t know where I am, nor what has happened. Then, flashes of green light begin to come back to me. Papa. Jordan. Mickey. Lanston. Kevan.

“My father, my brothers. Where are they?” I ask her.

She looks down and shakes her head. The universal sign. She doesn’t need to say anything. She does though. “You are the only survivor.”

I gasp. There is no air. I try again. She’s standing by the door waiting for me. I follow her out, through a village full of people. People who are staring at me. Some with hate. Others with pity. 

Are their families all dead too? Do they have to tell their Mothers and sisters? I wonder to myself withholding my own judgment.

The dark haired woman is talking, no she stops talking to look at me. I missed the question.

“I’m Cassandra Pentaghast.”

“Isabeau Trevelyan.”

Now that that’s over with, she continues walking, and talking. I try to listen to her. It’s hard to do that and keep up with her quick pace. There are people everywhere. They’re hurt and scared. So am I.

Then, I saw a pair of lips, dusky pink like an Antivan rose, with a scar running through the right edge of the upper lip.  What caused it? 

The lips pressed together, thin and tight. Above, eyes swimming with the colors of straw and amber, copper and clay, walnuts and ale squinted at me through a veil of thick lashes. They were angry, untrusting.

Cassandra spoke more words I failed to hear. But, I heard the scar speak. It spoke of death. Treachery. Ill-will. Chaos. Darkness.

The Divine was dead? Wait, I killed the Divine? 

“I most assuredly did not kill the Divine!” I yelled at the scar.

It stopped speaking and looked at me. That’s when I noticed it had hair and a body. But, not just any hair and body. His hair was thick with golden waves, not so long as to cover his ears, but long enough to be able to grab a handful on top, if I could reach it.  Why did my mind have to go there?  He was taller than the average man. He wore a breastplate bearing the head of a lion, with matching greaves and gauntlets. Pauldrons covered his broad shoulders, which were then draped in the black and red mane of a lion. 

The scar stared at me, as did its eyes. “Then, who did?” it asked calmly.

“I don’t know!” I yelled back.

“She just woke up and found out her family is dead, Commander. Cut her some slack,” Cassandra said.

A stunningly beautiful red-headed woman spoke up. Somehow, I did not notice her until now. “The mark she bears. It matches the rift. Let us take her to it.”

The scar twitched. 

The dark-haired woman tugged on my sleeve. “Come then.”


	2. Sparring Partners

  


Chapter 2: Sparring Partners

  


A large eerie green glowing fade rift hovered over the location where the conclave had taken place. The world’s greatest leaders, members of the nobility, and grand-standers had gathered to discuss the mage rebellion and collapse of the Chantry’s rule. The Divine was to speak on it. What would happen after was anyone’s guess. Father, Bann Trevelyan had taken my four older brothers, and myself along with him. My brothers were all well respected Enchanters at various Circle location throughout Thedas. My younger sister was the only sibling who didn’t attend, wasn’t even invited. We all though she was destined (doomed - however you’d like to put it) for Tranquility. She showed magical aptitide by age 10. But, she didn’t have much interest in it. As it so happened, she has an eidetic memory. She’s now one of the greatest magical scholars in all of Thedas. She made it through her Harrowing by outsmarting the demons. I bet she still analyzes it.

My four new acquaintances lead me to the rift they were calling “the Breach.” I closed the rift they called “the Breach.” I closed many more like it. They started to believe me when I told them I didn’t kill the Divine. Everyone else had a harder time with it. I had a hard time with it myself seeing as how I had no memory past arriving with family, schmoozing with the attendees, and finding a seat.

How would I tell my Mother?

The town, called Haven, was small and sad. Many lost their loved ones in the incident that killed the Divine. The populace was comprised of people who had loved ones at the conclave, and merchants, craftsmen, and now the Inquisition.

Weeks went by. I familiarized myself with the layout of the village, the people in it, and the four people who seemed most important in the movement of the Inquisition, Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen.

Cassandra was a Seeker. She had been looking for someone to assist in quelling the mage rebellion. She was not looking for me. Leliana was the most perfect of Spymasters. She had spent time with the King and Queen of Ferelden while they were merely Grey Wardens trying to end the Blight. Josephine was born to life as an Ambassador. She was from a noble house of Antiva. The Game was in her blood. 

Collectively they decided that my time would be best spent preparing for the fight that loomed on the horizon. Just because the conclave was disastrous didn’t mean the issue didn’t need to be addressed. But, with no Chantry the world as we knew it had been plunged into a chaos that threatened to erupt and overtake at a moment’s notice. Leliana instructed me on the tactics she used to communicate and gather information. Josephine helped me to learn the intricacies of proper life as a noble, since my life in the Circle failed at that task. Cassandra to help to train me in hand-to-hand combat. At the Circle I only learned magic. I was useless in a real fight. She was good, very good. Apparently, I learned quickly and she felt I was ready to be battle tested. It was finally time that I moved on to a new trainer.

Cullen . . .well Cullen was aloof. He was the Commander of the Armed Forces, and had formerly been Knight-Commander of the Templars in Kirkwall during the mage rebellion. That was all I knew of his history. I knew much more of his present.

I had spent plenty of time watching him from afar. I was no stranger to his tactics, his strategy, his mannerisms, nor the intensity of his demeanor. It was hard to discern whether or not he held approval on his countenance. Certainly, ambivalence was not found there. But, satisfaction and disappointment were both masked by his steely reserve. 

He spent the entirety of his waking hours on the practice field training his forces, teaching recruits, planning battle strategies, giving orders, and looking like the Maker created him for the sole purpose of drawing the attention of the female eye.  The man never stopped working. I would often see him next to the dying fire well past dark, standing over the map in the war room, his hands planted on the oak tabletop. His eyes sometimes darting to and fro across the map, other times they stared off into nothingness. They never looked in my direction.

Today the Commander stood in the midst of his troops. Watching. Training.  Judging. And today he was rather vocal for a change.

“No! You have a shield. Use it.”

“Parry, parry. Thrust.”

“Guard! Don’t forget your guard!”

Nervous didn’t begin to describe how I felt. Cassandra was strong and fast. I had no idea what I was going to be up against with the Commander. I watched from across the practice field trying to find the courage to approach him. Honestly, I was afraid he was going to yell at me too . . .again.

He glanced in my direction, called over a lad with a clipboard who scribbled something down furiously, and headed in my direction.

“Commander,” I said with a nod in his direction as he approached.

“Lady Trevelyan, I must apologize for our first meeting. It was a tense day. You did not deserve such treatment,” he said, taking my hand and pressing his rosy lips to my undeserving knuckles in a kiss of supplication. 

I swallowed. “Isabeau, please. Lady Trevelyan is my Mother,” I said dry-mouthed and wide-eyed.

The scar smiled. Just the scar, and a crinkle of his eye. The young man from earlier approached us with two sparring swords and a shield.

“You don’t get a shield until you learn how to use a sword first,” he said, handing me a long sword pommel first. “Never touch the blade with your bare hands. It will rust. And he’ll have to clean it,” he said glancing in the direction of the squire.

My fingers grazed his as he handed the sword to me. They were warm . . .certain. His sword was an extension of his arm. It required a much thought for him as it did for me to walk.

He slid his left hand through the straps of the shield. “Don’t choke it. Hold it like a raw egg, or a baby bird. Not so tight as to crush it, but not so loose as to drop it either.”

“That’s a good description, Commander,” I said, smiling for the first time as some of the tension began to melt away. His sword came down on mine, which clanked to the ground.

“Pick it up, and be ready next time,” he said, unsmiling.

  


My arm tired much more quickly than my mind. But, I did not give into the complaints of my aching arm, back, and shoulder muscles. Thankfully, Cassandra had not been taking it easy on me. The Commander was relentless. After a week and a half of training with him I was starting to develop some actual talent for hand-to-hand combat instead of merely a repertoire of thrusts, cuts, and parries. I was able to work in the quickness Cassandra had taught me with the strength of the Commander. It started to become a dance with him, instead of a fight all the time. 

Finally, the day came where he put a real blade in my hand. I looked at him in disbelief. Surely he didn’t think this was wise. He too had a real blade. His blade. It was sharp, and it was en guard at me. It was at least as long as his arm, and so polished that his reflection shone. His long fingers wrapped around a red leather grip. And his shield bore the head of a lion. He was every inch a warrior.

“I won’t have a sword in battle though, Commander. I’ll have a staff,” I said as I waved over the squire. He handed me my staff, then quickly retreated.

The Commander nodded. We began the waltz of combatants. He advanced. I retreated. I advanced. He retreated. Staff hit sword. Sword hit staff. Staff hit shield. I was reluctant to use my magic. I didn’t actually want to hurt him, or singe off his luscious eyelashes. Today, I was fast. I was able to disarm him of his sword. He snagged my staff tossing it over his shoulder. I rolled towards him, in an attempt to take out his legs and reach for my staff on the ground behind him.

He saw this and quickly threw his shield towards my hand. I blocked it using my other forearm. The bones felt as if they had broken on impact. But nonetheless, my sword hand closed around my staff as the forearm of my off hand absorbed the blow. I turned towards him to point my staff in his direction as his body came flying through the air, landing on top of me. The weight of his large frame held me to the ground. He pressed his fingertips into my neck, preparing to cut off my blood supply, and his other hand clenched around my wrist of the hand holding my staff. 

His hot breath fell heavily on my face. His chest heaved on top of mine, his breastplate smashing my breasts uncomfortably. Our eyes locked in the dance of first eye contact, not knowing where to look but holding the gaze of the other nonetheless. His scar twitched, momentarily. Had I won? Had he won? There was no way I could escape him. He was far too strong and outweighed me by at least five stones. My staff was rendered useless so magic wouldn’t help me either. 

“I yield,” I said into his amber eyes.

“Well fought, Lady Trevelyan,” he said still not releasing his grip.

“I think . . .you’re laying on my broken arm,” I said through labored breaths and clenched teeth.

“Makers breath!” he exclaimed as he got to his feet and helped me up gingerly. “I didn’t?”

“I don’t know. I can’t feel it,” I said clutching it to my chest, leaving the weapons forgotten on the ground.

He chuckled and smiled. “Then, it’s not broken.”

The Commander and I didn’t get the chance to spar again. More and more troops poured into Haven. I was often sent on missions outside of Haven to close more rifts and to help develop relationships with the people of Ferelden. I was being toted as the “Herald of Andraste.” And I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the idea that I was “Maker sent” even if I was the sole survivor of a blast that killed everyone else at the conclave, including the Divine.

  


Once again I woke up to to pain and blurry vision. There were no walls this time. Cold and wind whipped at my face, but my body was wrapped in blankets and furs. I heard shouting. Arguing. Raised voices. I recognized them, one-by-one. But, I heard his first.

“You were going to leave her out there to freeze to death!” He yelled at them, like I had never heard him yell before.

“There was no chance we thought she could live through that, Cullen,” Cassandra spoke in even tones.

“She truly is sent by the Maker,” whispered Leliana.

“She is safe now. Maker be praised,” said Josephine.

  


“You’re lookin’ better there, Frosty,” Varric said as he rubbed my head through the covers. “Your lips aren’t quite so blue.”

I smiled. “Why are they always fighting?”

“Cause they can’t decide who’s going to lead,” he said as he swiped the back of his glove under his nose. 

“I’ve never heard him so mad before,” I noted aloud, almost to myself.

“Well, it was his decision to go search for you. Everyone else thought you were surely dead, buried under that avalanche. But, not him, or me either just for the record,” he said winking at me. “He insisted on going to look for you. We all went. But, Cullen found you, scooped you up out of a snowdrift, carried you back here, and tucked you into those blankets.”

I didn’t see that dwarf standing in front of me, though he hadn’t moved from my line of sight. All I could see was Commander Cullen standing around the fire, yelling at three women.

“He saved me?”

Varric didn’t answer the rhetorical question. “Lemme get you something hot to drink. We’ll need to move soon.”

I sat up slowly, holding the blankets tight around me. I remembered bits and pieces of it. More than what I remembered of my last life changing incident. We faced off against Corypheus, a former magister turned god. He told me that he tried to kill the Divine and I got in the way. That’s why I had this strange mark on my hand in the form of a green glowing light. His army was advancing on Haven. So, I did what I had to do. I caused an avalanche to block the gates, to block the path of his army. But, first I made everyone else leave me behind. I wanted to ensure that my friends, my people were safe. 

Varric handed me a cup of steaming liquid. “Drink it quick. It’ll be frozen before you can count the toes on a nug.”

It was hot, and salty.

  


  


  



	3. Skyhold

Chapter 3: Skyhold

  


Skyhold became our new headquarters. It was a sprawling, aging, forgotten castle. Though not ancient, nor yet beyond repair. Because of the avalanche the survivors of the attack on Haven were able to get away. We had enough people to rebuild. Reconstruction and renovation started immediately. I was allowed to take it easy for a few days seeing as how I almost died, again, and how I didn’t have anything to do until we had enough supplies to send out a team for reconnaissance. 

After a few long days learning my way to the courtyard and back, I found that all I really wanted to do was thank the Commander. Having his hands in a little bit of everything, he was hard to track down. I eventually found him near the infirmary signing work orders. After five or six people got signatures from him, with no end in sight to those getting in line, I decided to take advantage of my position for once and press my way up next to him. 

He waved away those in front of him. One lone young lad stood behind him hesitating to bring his orders before the Commander. If the Commander could ignore him, so could I.

He cleared his throat. “Lady Trevelyan, it is good to see you. I hear we’ll be calling you ‘Inquisitor’ now?”

I smiled a half smile. “It will be hard to get used to the title. Lady Trevelyan is bad enough. But, if you insist . . .that I need a title, I prefer Inquisitor.”

“It’s good to see you,” he said reaching for another clipboard.

I looked up to see that he wasn’t talking to the recruit in front of him. “Oh, me. Yes. It’s good to see you too. I’m glad you made it.”

He paused, looked at the line behind him and said politely, but firmly, “Go away.”

No more recruits stepped forward. It’s as if they all vanished in that moment. We were alone. As alone as two people could be in field full of bustling people.

He smiled momentarily. Then, he looked down.

I suddenly felt too close to him and took a step away.

He gently grabbed my arm and pulled me to face him. We were nearly as close as we were that day when we sparred at Haven.

“You stayed behind.” His eyes searched mine. They were wide, and golden, and a little sad. “You didn’t make it out of there.”

I held his gaze. “But, I did. I heard it was you that went back to find me. Thank you, Commander,” I said. “From the bottom of my heart.”

His eyes softened.  “Cullen. Please, Isabeau? Call me Cullen.”

He used my name. For the first time.

I heard my youngest brother, Lanston, who was only a year older than me, tell me to straighten my robes. We were going to see the Divine after all. He always called me Beau. Most of my family called me Beau, or Bo-Bo. Everyone at the Circle called me Enchanter Trevelyan.  Only Mother called me Isabeau on any regular basis.

The memory faded. I reached up and laid a hand on his upper arm. “Thank you, Cullen.”

“I won’t let anything like what happened at Haven happen ever again. You’re too important to me . . .us. To the Inquisition.”

I could feel his muscles twitch beneath my fingertips. His skin warmed to my touch.

“Why risk it? Why did you come looking for me?” I asked.

He reached his hands out and folded mine in his. “Because you had to be alive. And because you are worth it.”

My heart swelled. “I would have done the same for you.”

He smiled, making his eyes crinkle ever so slightly in the corners. “I’m glad to know that. You truly are an extraordinary woman.”

A small line of recruits began forming behind him again. I squeezed his hands, and inclined my head. “I should let you get back to work.”

He squeezed my hands in return. Then, as I walked up the stairs towards the keep I heard his voice ring out. “Don’t be a stranger!”

I looked back smiling. “I won’t!”

  


I walked past that station every day to catch a glimpse of Commander Cullen. I would watch him sign more forms, give more orders, study more maps. He was always surrounded by squires, lieutenants, clerics, scribes, and many of them were young women - women who were probably not much younger than myself. I had just seen my 25th name day. It went by unceremoniously as had most of the rest. My father came to the Circle when I turned 18 and was made an Enchanter at the youngest age possible. He gave me a necklace with a pendant bearing the symbol of the Trevelyan family crest, signifying that I was indeed a respected member of our noble family. I still cherish it above all of my other possessions to this day. It was the only name day celebration I ever had. Few name days were celebrated in the Circle. I did not know how or if name days were even celebrated outside of the Circle. I had lived there for 20 years.

Today the Commander seemed a little more on edge, a little more irritated than usual. I wondered what was bothering him, wondered if I should, if I could ask. He was handed a clipboard. “No,” he said handing it back. The girl left. The next girl hesitated to hand him the one in her hands. He snatched it from her, then shoved it right back into her hands without a word. She walked quickly up the stone steps towards the entrance to the keep. The other young men and women around him clutched their clipboards to their chests and backed away slowly as not to provoke him.

He looked down at his maps in silence. I approached warily, standing in front of him patiently for the briefest of moments before he sighed and quietly said, “Go away.”

My shoulders slumped and my stomach threatened to revisit my breakfast. “I’m sorry to bother you, Commander.” I turned to go.

His hand snaked out, grabbing me by the arm, sliding down to find mine. “No, not you! I would never. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s all right,” I said squeezing his hand.

“No. No, it isn’t. Walk with me?” he asked giving me a tug.

“Of course,” I said, my heart lightening.

“I should take more breaks,” he said as we walked along the ramparts.

“Especially when you get that grumpy. Though I’ve seen your temper worse,” I tried to joke.

“Yes,” he paused. “It is getting worse. I have less and less patience these days. I’m frustrated.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?” I asked him nervously.

“Ah, sure,” he replied, sounding just as nervous.

“I heard you served in Kirkwall during the mage rebellion,” I began.

“Yes, I did,” he confirmed.

“Did you leave someone behind there? It’s only that you seem awfully sad,” I noted.

“No, not in Kirkwall,” he answered. “There was someone who I cared for once years earlier in Ferelden. But, she moved on. That was over 10 years ago now.”

“That’s a long time. I had someone at the Circle in Ostwick for awhile. But, he left one day. It’s been nearly two years since I’ve seen him. I find that I don’t think about him often any more,” I remembered aloud.

“Everyone thinks that mages and Templars live chaste lives, don’t they? Because we’re ‘locked away’ somewhere. It’s not quite like that, is it?” he asked to no one in particular.

“No, it’s not. But, that doesn’t mean it’s not lonely,” I said, catching him stealing a glance in my direction.

“Did you love him?” he asked me.

The question surprised me. But, I suppose we were sharing. “Yes. I guess I did in a fashion. I learned a lot from him. We were together, well not ‘together,’ but it went on for several years. Then, he had to leave. Got to walk out the front door.”

“That’s lucky for him. His talents must have been needed somewhere. Not a lot of mages get to do that,” Cullen said matter-of-factly.

“How long have you been a Templar?” I asked as we continued to walk the ramparts.

“I went to the Chantry at age 13. My Templar training began a few years later. And I took my vows a few years after that. But, I’m a Templar no longer,” he said pointedly to me.

“I’m still a mage,” I said anxiously. Of course he knew that. I suppose I wanted to see what he did when I said it out loud.

“So you are,” he said leaning against the battlements.

“Does it bother you? Do you feel like you’re reporting to a mage now?” I asked.

“You are a strong, responsible woman. You’re more than just a figurehead or just a mage. You’re leading those who cannot lead. I’m here to train your army. And I respect you.” He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Does that answer your question, Isabeau?”

I met those amber eyes. Perhaps that was a mistake. It warmed me to my core despite the cold wind whipping across our faces. I tucked the hair behind my ear in a futile gesture. “Yes, I suppose it does well enough for now.”


	4. Commander. Cullen.

Chapter 4: Commander. Cullen.

  


I thought about him night and day. It was starting to make me a bit mad. I had more important things with which to occupy my mind. But, at any moment my mind would jump to Commander Cullen. First I would see him as the Commander, surrounded by forces, yelling orders. Then, Cullen would seep in. The one who once had feelings for a woman in the tower  (Was she a mage or a Templar?) , the one who treated me as his equal in combat, the one who spent time roaming the ramparts with me on one occasion. Those eyes. There was no equal to those eyes. They melted a path straight to my heart every time they turned in my direction.

Perhaps I should just say something to him and get it out of my system. He would smile awkwardly, thank me for my profession, and change the subject sending my feelings on their way. He was at least ten years my senior, and technically my subordinate. And he was far too busy to make any more time in his busy schedule to spend with me. I was the Inquisitor. I could speak my mind. But, to Cullen?

He had been spending more and more time in what had become his office as the days grew shorter and colder. I found him there, surrounded by squires, and scribes, and many young women as usual. Surely, I was just another person with a metaphorical clipboard waiting for his signature. The room cleared and it was just he and I. I was nervous that it would quickly fill back up.

“Would you care to take a short walk with me, Commander? I just needed to talk with you for a moment,” I said, hands shaking, palms sweating. It almost hurt me physically to use his title as opposed to his name. But, I felt it was best to keep him at arm’s length. This was likely one of the most difficult dialogues in which I would ever engage.

His eyes squinted, perhaps at the use of his title? “Of-of course.”

The sun was high in the sky. The day, perhaps, could have even been described as warm for what it was worth. Seeing as how I spent most of my time on the ground, I still found the rather still air a bit chilly this high up.

He removed the dark red lion’s mane mantle from around his shoulders and wrapped it around mine.

I held my breath.  What was it I wanted to say?

“Forget how cold it was up here, did you?” he asked. The edge of his lip with his scar was curled in a smile.

“I, uh, did.”  My brain must have frozen.

“I don’t think we finished our conversation the other day, Isabeau.”

He used my name again. I’m so rude.  “We didn’t?” I asked, confused.

“I don’t think of you as a mage. I realize that you happen to be one. But, it’s not who you are. Not to me.” His voice shook ever so slightly with the last words. 

Oh, he was nervous too!  This just got easier. “I have to tell you that I think about you all the time. Maybe I shouldn’t admit that. But, it’s the only thing I can think of that may allow me to actually get some work done around here. You’ve really been wonderful. I not only owe you my life, but I feel that I can also call you friend. That means a lot to me.” My heart raced. My palms sweat. My hair blew into my eyes. I swatted it away gracefully, like a pesky fly.

“I will hand you your life a thousand times over,” he said, swiping a palm across my face and tucking my hair behind my ear.

“You’re good at your job, Commander,” I complimented him, and smoothed back the hair he had just touched.

“It’s not out of duty,” he said softly. 

“You are a good man, Cullen.” I felt awkward saying that. But, I thought it so often that it was natural coming from my lips. He was close enough that I could have reached out to touch him. I wanted to. I didn’t.

“I can’t even count the number of times I pictured this situation in my head since meeting you.” He took a step towards me.

His statement rattled around in my head. “Oh? Well that’s unexpected.”

“Is it? I’ve seen you . . .watching me. How could I not wonder what it is you’re thinking?” Another step.

“Huh. I never catch you looking at me,” I said nonchalantly.

His lips smirked. “I’m better at hiding things than you are,” he remarked.

Oh, so he had been watching me.

Another step my way. One more and . . .

“I just figured you thought I was some silly girl who was trying to flounder her way through this,” I wrung my hands.  Oh Maker, he’s so close!

“I see a woman wise beyond her years, who is unsure about what to do with all her knowledge. You are the Inquisitor. And I’m your Commander. We are at war. And we both have important tasks ahead . . .” He trailed off, taking my fidgeting hands in his, quieting them.

“Of course. A foolish misplaced notion. I just thought I should thank you . . .”

Another step. His hands gently cupped my hips, as if I were a baby bird. His soft, warm eyes caught mine as his lips closed in on me.

“Commander!” A voice in the throes of puberty rang out.

Cullen turned with rage in his whole being. “Go. Away!”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll leave it on your desk, Sir!” The lad backed away several steps before turning to run.

Saved by the squire.  “I understa-” My words were cut off as his lips came down on mine, hard. His hands cupped my icy face. His body crushed me to the stone behind me. He wanted me. In that moment, with all of his being, he wanted me. I realized it and my heart sang. The blood pounded in my ears and my fingertips. My lips breathed new breath beneath the weight of his kiss. My face tingled against the stubble of his jaw. 

Our mouths danced in the revelry of letting go. My arms clutched at his back, pressing him to me. His mouth slowed. The music ended. The waltz was done.

He did not let go.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he said capturing my gaze. “You have beautiful green eyes. Like the spring.”

“Oh!” was all I could utter. My breath came in short ragged gasps. I felt as if he were laying on my non-broken arm again.

He looked abashed. “I’m sorry. I have to get back to work, Isabeau.”

“Of course you do. Cullen,” I said grabbing his hand before he could turn away from me. “I really enjoyed that. I really needed that.”

“Me too,” he said as he ran his thumb across mine. “Tomorrow? Come see me again. I can always use a break.”

“Yes, I’ll find the time.” I didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, I gently tugged him back to me. My arms wrapped up around his neck, settling his lion pelt back onto his regal shoulders. My hands found their way into that thick golden hair.

His mouth, much softer this time, met mine in another too short dance of newly uncovered emotions.

  


The next day Cassandra found me early in the day to tell me we were needed in the Hinterlands. We would be gone at least four days. Possibly a week or more. I was going to have days and days to think about kissing Cullen. I would at least need to say “Goodbye” to him. 

I was to meet Cass, Varric, and Dorian after I gathered my things.  I wasted no time in preparing for a week’s journey. I gave my bags to a squire as I headed in the direction of Cullen’s office. A circle of people surrounded his desk. He stood at one corner enveloped in the usual routine. Sign, nod, point, say “No,” sign, shake head, make a request, give someone a disapproving look, say “No!” louder. I waited while several more people entered into the queue. After he dismissed the officers, I cleared my throat.

He looked at me. That delightful scarred corner of his mouth twitched. Without taking his eyes from me, he said, “Go away.” They filed out in an orderly single file line. He shut the door behind them. 

“Good morning. It’s nice to see you so early for a change,” he said as he walked back over to his desk, leaning against the edge.

I went over to stand in front of him. He reached out for my hand, pulling me towards him. My heart began thundering in my chest, my ears, my fingertips. 

“I came to tell you that I’m heading out to the Hinterlands with Cassandra this morning. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. Surely several days, maybe a week. I just wanted to let you know, so that you weren’t waiting for me. Not that you wait for me. But, so that you knew where I was. I mean, why I didn’t come to see you later today.”  I was rambling. Maker let me stop rambling.

He took my other hand in his. “I already heard that you were heading out. Word travels fast.”

“Oh, well, I guess I stopped by for no reason then. I should have known you would already know. You know everything.” I could feel the color creep up my face.

“You never have to have a reason to come see me.” He gently pulled on my hands so that I stepped towards him. “You can stop by anytime, for no reason at all. I will always be happy to see you. Regardless, I’m going to miss you more than usual now, I think.” He ducked his head sheepishly.

I took another step into his body. Standing between his legs, I dared my hands to circle around his abdomen and rest lightly on his sides. “I’ll miss you too.”

“Be careful,” he said as his hands slid around my hips to rest at the small of my back. They were warm and sure. I could feel the battle-hardened roughness through the fabric of my shirt.

“I always am.”

“I wish I could go with you and get away from this keep for a little while. Perhaps next time? At the very least, I can promise I’ll have an army at your back when you need it. Your army,” he said pulling me closer.

“Our army,” I said wrapping my arms around him further. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

“Yes you could,” he assured me.

“I like your confidence. I need you to keep it up for me, please.”

“It’s easy to have confidence in you, Isabeau.”

The words flowed from his lips so easily. 

“I hope it isn’t misplaced.”  What if I failed?

“Don’t,” he said looking serious. “Don’t doubt yourself. And don’t doubt my feelings for you.”

His feelings for me. “I believe in you,” I told him meeting his eyes with mine. “And since you believe in me, I believe in me too.”

“Good. Now, kiss me goodbye before Cassandra comes looking for you.” It was the best order I had ever been given.

Our lips met. His hands squeezed my hips. Then, slowly worked their way towards my backside.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and tangled a hand into his thick blonde mane. 

The door latch clicked open, startling us both. But, not enough to break our embrace. He took a deep breath, but before he could speak or look to our intruder, she spoke up.

“Oh, I’m sorry Commander,” Cassandra said. “O-o-o-h!” She said, again, the tone of her voice much different when she recognized me from behind. “I suppose I don’t need to ask if you’ve seen the Inquisitor.”

Cullen’s eyes held mine. I shrugged and bit my lip.

“But, I haven’t seen the Inquisitor,” Cassandra said demurely. “So, I’ll just keep looking. By the by, I owe Dorian two silvers. But, I’m certainly not going to be the one to tell him. Although based on the original bet he already knows and is waiting to see who else finds out. Not that anyone will admit to it and pay up. A strange bet indeed. I’ll have to think on it further.”

“Cassandra, is there anything I can do for you?” Cullen asked.

“If you see the Inquisitor tell her we’re ready to leave. She just needs to choose her mount for the trip and I’ll see that it is saddled,” she answered.

“The Inquisitor will take the bay gelding. He knows the area,” I informed her.

“Very well,” she said.

“Cassandra,” Cullen called to her before she could leave. 

“Yes, Commander?”

He searched my face with his eyes. “Take care of her for me.”

“I always do,” she said on her way out the door.

“It doesn’t sound like she’s going to tell anyone at least,” I pointed out to him.

“Dorian knows already. He’s far too observant. It’s only a matter of time.” He squeezed my bum and pulled me in close again. “You must know how fast word travels in a place like this?”

“Of course I do. I lived in the Circle since I was five,” I told him.

“Five? Wow. You were very young. I think that’s the youngest I’ve heard of anyone going to the Circle. You were showing signs of magic already at that age?” He was flabbergasted.

“I am . . .was the fifth child in my family, of six. All mages. My four older brothers were much older when they were sent to the Circle. My sister too for that matter.” My heart sank.  My brothers, my father, they were all dead now. We were at the conclave together. Tears began to well up, spilling over unbidden. I hadn’t cried. Not yet. Not a drop. Perhaps it’s because I was alone with no one to catch me. Now, I had Cullen.

He stood up. His strong arms pulled me into his body. The sobs wracked mine. He held me, tight against his chest. He held me. He pressed his lips to the top of my head. 

“Isabeau, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I’m here for you.” He continued to murmur soothing words into my hair.

Eventually the tears slowed, and I wiped my face with my wet hands. He pulled out a handkerchief. I dabbed my face, blew my nose, and with a small, mischievous smirk I pretended to hand it back to him.

He smiled. Teeth and all. Then, he took my face in his hands, wiped my cheeks with his thumbs and kissed each cheekbone. “When you get back you can tell me all about them.”

“I’d like that.”


	5. To Sleep

Chapter 5: To Sleep

  


It was a long trip. Winter in Ferelden, especially in and out of the mountains, was snow covered making travel slow. We delivered many loads of much needed coats, blankets, and food to the people. The Inquisition was garnering many followers and supporters. It was uplifting, promising.

As we returned to Skyhold all I could think about was stealing Cullen away from his work for a quiet dinner or a moonlit walk along the ramparts. It was well into the night when we arrived back at the keep. Cassandra offered to see to Brego for me, but I found a sense of peace and closure from my journey in unsaddling and caring for my horse. I did let her see to my bags though. 

I unsaddled him and placed his tack in line with all the other saddles and bridles to be cleaned in the morning by the squires. I curried and brushed him, and rubbed him down with a cloth to make sure all the sweat had been dried away. I diligently picked every piece of gravel from his hooves, and combed all the tangles from his mane and tail. He enjoyed the attention, standing patiently with the lead merely draped over his stall door. When he was immaculately clean, I lead him into his stall. Then, I removed his halter and hung it on the door, wrapping the end of the lead over the hook so it wouldn’t drag on the ground.

Brego nickered at me as I approached his stall with an armload of hay.

“You worked hard, buddy. You’re a good boy, Big Man.” I continued to praise him as I tossed the hay over the stable wall into the corner of his stall. His trough was full of water, and he had ankle deep clean, fresh wood shavings to bed down in later. I rubbed his forehead lovingly, and finger-combed his forelock into place, gently twisting it to hang in the middle of his forehead.

“You have a good bond with that horse. It’s important to trust your mount. We can train him for battle if you like,” a soothing, much-anticipated voice said from the darkness of the barn.

My chest swelled. He had come to find me this time.

“No, I wouldn’t want to endanger him that way. That big, ill-tempered black stallion is certainly much more suited to battle and carrying a load or two of armor,” I gestured to the stall at the end of the stall row. Said horse kicked at his wall signaling that he could also use a serving of hay, even though I know he had already been fed for the evening. But, since I was trying to get on his good side, if he had one, I acquiesced to his demand.

“Dragon is aptly named. Are you sure you can handle a horse like that though?” he asked.

I approached his stall slowly, knowing that gnashing teeth were headed in my direction. I was not wrong. He latched onto merely air though, and I chided him sharply with my voice. “Aht, aht! Back up!”

The head disappeared and I heard his feet being dragged through his bedding. I dumped the hay over the wall into the corner and was bothered no more. He happily champed away, already forgetting about me. I did not attempt to reach in to pet him.

“My apologies. I didn’t know you were such the horse-woman,” he sidled up to me and rested one hand in the small of my back.

The gesture helped to melt the road-weariness from my bones. I turned into his arms, his welcoming embrace, and laid my head on his shoulder. “I’ve always had a fondness for them. They’re majestic, and proud, and soulful. They speak with their eyes, not their mouths. Many have been my friends when there was no one else. They make me happy the way nothing else can.”

“That’s certainly an affectionate description. Come, you must be so tired. Let me see you to your quarters,” he offered, rubbing my back in large meandering circles.

“Thank you. It’s so good to be back.” I let my eyes close, and my weight sag into him. “I just want to sleep right here.”

“No, you don’t. You’ll have hay in places where hay shouldn’t be,” he chuckled and plucked a piece from my hair.

“I don’t think I’ll make it back to my bed though,” I mumbled into his shoulder. “It’s so far away.”

His voice was soft and low. “You can sleep in mine if you like, it’s closer, but with less roof.”

Without picking up my head, I nodded. He scooped me up into his arms, as if I were naught but a child, without so much as a jostle. He climbed the steps effortlessly, even managed the door without setting me down.

“You will have to climb the ladder yourself though, unless you’d like me to throw you over my shoulder, which I can do,” he said into my ear.

“I can manage.” I yawned and stretched as he set me back on my feet. The ladder was a blur. I sat on the edge of . . .Cullen’s bed. 

He knelt in front of me, picked up my foot and removed one boot, and then the other. He held the covers up and tucked my legs into them. Then, he bent over, tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed me on my temple. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered in my ear.

He turned to go and I snagged his hand. “Cullen, propriety be damned. I won’t chase you out of your own bed so that you can sit at your desk all night long. Just lay down. Please?”

“Of course,” he said walking around to the other side. I felt the mattress dip as he sat to remove his own boots. Then, he shucked some clothing onto the floor and wiggled under the covers behind me. His arm snaked slowly around my side, pulling me in close so that we were nestled like spoons. I interlaced my fingers with his, and fell into the deepest sleep I had ever known.

  


I woke in the wee morning hours to his moans. “Get out. Leave this place. Be gone,” he mumbled in his sleep, giving orders in the dawn to his own demons. I propped myself up on my elbow, afraid to touch him for fear of him lashing out at me. Perhaps he wouldn’t know that I was here.

He put my fears at ease as he startled awake merely staring out through the broken boards of the ceiling.

“Cullen,” I whispered, still not touching him. “It’s all right. It was a dream. I’m here for you.”

He closed his eyes briefly and nodded his head, pressing his lips together tightly, rubbing his hands over his face. He breathed a sigh of relief, opened his eyes, and opened his arms for me. I relinquished myself to him, again. He buried his face in my hair, and gently smoothed the ends down against my back.

“Do you have a lot of bad dreams?” I asked, with my cheek nuzzled into his chest.

“I only have bad dreams. They’ve gotten worse since I stopped taking lyrium back when I joined the Inquisition. This one though, wasn’t quite as bad as some of the others.” His voice still sounded a bit distant, vacant even. He glanced at me briefly, “still unpleasant though.”

“How long has that been?” I asked knowing full well what happened to people in lyrium withdrawal: nightmares, headaches, numbness in the extremities, night sweats, dry mouth, paranoia, fatigue, irritability, lyrium cravings, appetite loss, muscle spasms, mood swings, nausea, insomnia. I had seen both mages and Templars suffer from lyrium withdrawal in my 20 years in the Circle at Ostwick. 

“About a year since I decided to stop taking lyrium. The nightmares started almost immediately.”

“Are you having any other symptoms, Cullen?”

“Nothing I can’t endure at the moment. But, I have spoken with Cassandra. If the Inquisition starts to suffer, if I cannot perform my duties any longer, she is to remove me from my post and assume position as the Commander.” His hands and his body were very still. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted to. I didn’t want you to worry for me while you were away, though.”

I propped myself up on my forearms on his chest. “I can only imagine what you’re going through. I respect your decision, Cullen. I’m here for you when you need me. I’ve seen a lot of men and women go through lyrium withdrawal. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“Thank you,” he said reaching for my face. “That means a lot to me.” 

I turned my lips into the palm of his hand and pressed a kiss there.

He tangled his fingers into my hair, and guided my mouth to his. I repositioned myself over him to reach him easier. The moment exploded into a frenzy of heated need. His hands tugged at my shirt in the back as they sought bare skin. My hips responded of their own volition, surging into his. My body undulated seeking more of him. I had never wanted anything like I wanted him in that moment.

His lips spoke to mine, asking them to dance again. His tongue delved into my mouth, inviting mine to partake as well. I could hold back no longer. His hands continued to work their way up my back. I straddled him, sat up, and whisked my shirt up over my head, tossing it onto the floor. His eyes drank in this new chapter. His hands slid up my belly, over my breasts, cupping their soft weight. His thumbs ran lightly over my nipples turning them into tight buds. 

His arms encircled me and laid me out on my back underneath of him. He too removed his shirt, letting me revel in the broad expanse of his chest and the plains of abdomen, and he tossed it across the room as he gazed at my naked torso. His head lowered to one breast, taking the nipple between his lips, pressing it between them before sucking it into his teeth. His tongue darted back and forth across the tip. 

I was powerless to control my mind or my body. My hands roamed every inch of skin they could reach. The lines of his shoulders, the muscles that rippled beneath the battle scarred skin, the strength of his straight spine, the thickness of his golden sun-kissed hair, the whole of his strong back was laid out before me, on top of me.

His attention turned to the other breast. That nipple was much flatter still. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, lightly at first, then steadily increased the pressure until I gasped and raked my fingertips up his back. I arched my breasts up into his face, which gave him the opportunity to rub the stubble of his cheeks against them, and cover them in kisses.

Oh, how men love to love breasts.

He looked up, met my eyes and brought his mouth back to mine. The dance was slower now as we lavished praise upon the lips of one another. After quite some time of enjoying the feel of the skin-on-skin contact I slowly slid one hand down his back, under the waistband of his breeches, onto his bare buttock. He stopped and raised his head, looking at me hungrily. I could feel the hard length of him throb against my thigh. I started to slide the other hand slowly down his back, using just the edge of my fingernails to tantalize him. He closed his eyes and let his head drop forward, pressing his forehead to mine. I rolled my hips under his where they were trapped mercilessly.

The door clicked open. I have never hated a sound so much in my entire life as I hated that sound of that door. 

I could see the vein in his neck pulsate as his breathing became loud and ragged. He clenched his teeth, and balled up the covers in his fists.

“Commander!” A young male voice echoed off the stone walls. “Sorry to wake you, ser. Sister Leliana requests your presence at the war table.”

“Fuck the war table,” Cullen said quietly, savagely through those clenched teeth.

“Ser?” the lad asked.

I placed my hands flat on his back. “Hey, Cullen” I said softly to get his attention.

He looked into my eyes and the tension melted away gradually. “Tell Sister Leliana that I have an extremely pressing matter to attend to this morning. And I will see her afterward.”

“I will Commander, if that is your wish. But, she bids me tell you that there has been a Darkspawn attack in Orlais and we need send troops.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head, pressing his lips together, causing his scar to all but disappear. “Damnit.”

I rubbed my hand slowly up and down his back and whispered. “Go. We can continue this another time . . .if you so desire.”

He opened his eyes. The wanting was obviously written all over his face.

“Tell her I’ll be there shortly,” he said, his words clipped. The squire left, clicking the door shut behind him.

“If I so desire?” he asked, incredulously.

“I just didn’t know if you would want something like this to happen again. I really did just come here to sleep last night, you know.”  Open mouth, insert foot. Back peddle the un-damming of the emotional flood gates.

“Isabeau, I want all of you. And I don’t just mean this way. I want you and I don’t want to let you go.” 

Cullen had me in his bed and was baring himself to me. I had hoped against hope for a moment like this.

I fought back tears, hard. “Good. Then, don’t.”

His eyes found mine, holding them captive. “I don’t intend to.”

Still winning my battle over those threatening tears, I smiled. “Go, I’ll be along momentarily so as not to arouse suspicion.”

“No, come with me. Let them talk,” he said with absolute certainty.

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	6. Lily

Chapter 6: Lily

  


Weeks had passed since we had walked into the war room together. I, still clad in my traveling clothes from the night before, thought of averting my eyes at first. But, when I entered the room I realized that neither Cassandra, Leliana, nor Josephine were acting strange or making any attempt to comment on what they all three must have known was going on. Since then Cullen and I had found precious few moments to steal away with each other: a wave from across the practice field, a quick squeeze of the hand in passing,  one rare kiss shared in the shadows . 

I knew Cullen spent a lot of time standing over his desk into the wee morning hours. I could see it in his eyes even from afar. In e very single passing glance I could feel the stubble of his jaw on my cheek, see the twitch of his scar when he smiled at me, remember the roughness of his hands pulling me to him, feel his warm breath trailing down my neck, smell the faint scent of soap and candle wax on his skin, feel the brush of his lion skin mantle against the edge of my hand. Even hearing someone mention his name took me back to the moment in the alcove. 

  


I had been walking along the outer walkway of the courtyard, after a discussion with Mother Giselle. I didn’t see him lurking, there in the shadows. His hand snaked out around my mouth. His strong arms pulled me back against his chest. For a fleeting moment I was afraid. Then, his scent washed over me. The familiar roughness of his calloused hand spoke to the soft skin of my face. His breath warmed my ear. I felt his nose and lips nestle against the top of my head.

“It’s only me,” he whispered against my hair.

The embers he had left in me from our last encounter began to spark.

“What are you doing here?” I asked quietly.

“I was talking with Orlesian noble number nine about a donation of weapons. She wanted to meet me in the garden so she could sit next to me on a bench and fondle my knee while she ogled me,” he admitted.

“I think every woman here wants to ogle one part of you or another. Even better if she gets to do it while fondling you,” I said, failing to leave the mocking note of jealousy out of my voice. “I think you could finance the entirety of the Inquisition if you let rich women fondle more of you.”

I tried to turn around to face him. He held me in place.

He made a dismissive grunt deep in his throat. “I saw you enter the courtyard as I was leaving and slid into the alcove to wait. You always walk past it closely, peeking in to see if anyone is here. I think you’ve been scoping it out for us.”

I loved when he admitted to watching me.

“Are you trying to steal Sister Nightingale’s position, Commander? Or has she put you up to this?” I asked, finding his hard abdominal muscles behind me with my hand. I ran it slowly around his hip bone, and down his leg as far as I could before grabbing a handful of inner thigh.

His breath escaped in a rush. His voice was husky. “I thought I’d steal a kiss, but this is far better.”

I turned my head to nab a sidelong glance at him. His eyes were closed, his mouth open. I ran one fingernail up that thigh stopping in the crease of his leg. 

More heavy breathing.

His teeth clamped down on my ear roughly.

I gasped. He tugged. The fire rose.

His lips rounded the edge of that ear, leaving a trail of heat behind them. His whisper was so soft, I could barely hear him. “Come to me tonight.”

“Of course.” I was powerless to refuse.

His hand grabbed my chin. His mouth took mine forcefully and left far too quickly. He turned and strode back into the light towards the stairs. 

I was left breathless and aroused.

  


Only I was called away on duty that night. And he wasn’t in his office when I stopped to say “goodbye” to him. Our love affair would have to continue to wait longer.

I had busied myself gathering more allies and recruits for the Inquisition. I had never imagined that I would see so much of Thedas. Most of my time was not spent at Skyhold, where Cullen was. I saw the far reaches of Orlais and Ferelden, lands that were strangers to me when I started. Now, I know them so well I can get across both on a single good mount if need be.

Luckily, the Inquisition had no shortage of mounts, though I never needed to take a single one all the way across the continent. Horses of every breed were bestowed as gifts from rich Orlesians. Harts, with a spread of antlers so large they needed special accommodations, came in from Elven lands. The dracolisk, a creature I had never seen before, came from deserted corners of the world where lizards shaped like horses preyed upon Maker knows what. If I thought I had a horse shaped spot in my heart reserved for the Maker’s magnificent equines, I had no idea there was a nug shaped hole waiting to be filled by the nuggalope. The nuggalope is a scarce creature throughout Thedas. A nug in appearance, save for the curling ram-like horns that adorn either side of its head, roughly the size of a crofter’s cottage. They come in a variety of colors. My favorite breed, the Gwaren Land-Hammer, comes in a shade of grey so like in appearance to purple that I named my favorite cow Lily.

Lily was a fairly docile girl. Even though she towered over everything we encountered she was gentle enough for the smallest child to come pet her, or feed her a piece of sprickleweed, her favorite treat. 

The differences between riding a horse and riding a nuggalope aren’t as numerous as one might think. First, the anatomy of their mouth doesn’t permit a bit to be used. They are ridden using a headstall only, with reins attaching to either side. Saddles are specially crafted by master saddlers. And even the highest quality nug saddles still make you feel like you’re straddling a a brick wall, though I have ridden horses that have been just as wide.

Mounting tends to be tricky as they’re incredibly smooth and round barreled, so mounting from the ground using a stirrup is nearly impossible, even if you’re as tall as a Qunari. Some especially spry people can mount with one large jump. I have no such jumping talent. Mounting from a short, or even a tall wall is preferable if you can teach your nug to stand next to such an object. It’s much easier to do if there is a sprickleweed growing next to the wall. Lily was taught to lie down. Even then I have to heave myself onto her back before throwing a leg over.

The biggest difference between horses and nuggalopes is that nuggalopes essentially have hands. Hands. Their back feet have five toes. And their front feet, well, they’re hands, of which they walk on the knuckles. This gives them a gait that is hard to explain. They lumber, not a waddle, nor a shuffle, though perhaps it could be described as an amble. I find it soothing and comforting for long rides. They’re not fast, nor graceful, nor particularly sure-footed in rough terrain. But, they have great amounts of stamina, can be quite aggressive and handy in a fight, and are bigger than any other land animal in Thedas, dragons not quite being considered “land animals.” Lily and I got on splendidly.

After a stop in Emprise du Lion to close a Fade Rift we set off for the desert. The Western Approach was what I normally expected. It was full of sand, sandstorms, Darkspawn, and trouble. For a combination of those reasons, it took us quite a long time to finish our business in the far West. I had been away for three weeks. Away from Cullen for three weeks.

A mere two days out from our return trip to Skyhold Lily came up lame with a stone bruise on her left front hand. She had carried me so far, and kept me safe. I couldn’t abandon her. Varric’s mount, a large pony he insisted we refer to as his “War Horse of Doom,” carried the least amount of weight and was always eager to be out front. We voted that he choose either Cassandra or Dorian to travel with him back to Skyhold post haste and send supplies. He decided to take Cassandra with him, seeing as how he would never live it down if he left two women to defend themselves on the road, despite the fact he assured us it was not his personal opinion. 

At this point Cassandra and Dorian switched mounts. Dorian rode a spirited ex-racehorse, and Cassandra rode a “cumbersome old plow horse” as Dorian put it, which was certain to fall to its death if pushed to those limits. Cassandra and the flea bitten grey hot blood turned Eastward and raced ahead of Varric and his pony.

“Why didn’t I go with Cassandra and Varric stay here with you?” Dorian asked.

“I don’t know, Dorian,” I sighed. “We’re tired. We’re not thinking clearly. You’re big. Varric’s little. Don’t tell him I said that.”

  


That night we hobbled the “plow horse” who was actually a slightly elderly battle mount. And Lily wandered unfettered as she was nearly walking on three legs at this point. We managed to find a cold stream where I convinced her to let me stand with her as she soaked her sore limb. Dorian’s new horse agreed that it was a good place for a nap. She stood resting one hind leg, and then the other. Meanwhile, Lily took turns drinking water by lowering her mouth to the stream or scooping it up in her sore hand and bringing it to her lips, which were prehensile, much like those of a horse, a horse with extremely floppy lips.

Later, as the mounts, both equine and nucine, dozed in a buffet of ankle deep grass, Dorian and I huddled close to our tiny, tiny magical wood-less campfire well off the road not far from the stream. 

“You could have taken my horse and gone with Varric back to Skyhold, you do know that?” Dorian asked, eyebrows askew.

“That’s silly,” I replied. “I don’t mind waiting. Besides, I couldn’t leave Lily.”

At the mention of her name she snorted ever so lightly and raised half an eyelid in my direction.

“You’re my girl,” I said to her with a wink and a smile.

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Tell me. When was the last time you two were alone together?”

“I’ve been with your Vint ass for weeks now. So, awhile. Why are you asking me weird questions, Dorian?”

“Not you and the nug, Nug-Humper. You and the Commander,” he said, exasperated. “I’m trying to bring up the topic of you and Cullen, here. Work with me.”

I took a slow, deep breath. “Oh. Him.” My face grew hot.

“Yes. Him. I know there’s something going on between the two of you. At least there was before you both got your heads stuck so far up your own asses that you’ve barely looked at each other since Cassandra found you snogging in his office.” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, and his perfectly mustached visage in his hands. “Do tell.”

“Ah. Well, I don’t know that there’s much to tell, really,” I began.

“Pish posh, Darling. I knew before anyone else. Ol’ Dorian has a nose. What’s going on? Out with it!” Dorian flung a crooked finger in my direction.

“Dorian, I think I’m in love with him.”

The Tevinter looked at me blankly blinking his brilliant big blue eyes. “In love?” Blink. Blink. 

I shrugged. “I’ve never been in love before.”

“Does he make you feel like you’ve never seen another man before him, and never will see another after?”

I slowly shook my head up and down twice while biting my lip.

“When you catch him looking at you from across the practice field does your heart jump into your mouth, and you have to swallow it back down?”

More head shaking.

His voice dropped to a deep, rumbling bass. “When he gets close does your chest feel like your ribs may explode at any moment?”

Nod.

“Does every free moment of your brain power go to thoughts of what you’d like to do to him next time you see him?”

Nod again.

He whispered softly.  Now I was the one to lean forward with my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands. “Has he kissed you and gazed into your eyes, and you had even one breadth of a moment where you knew he felt the exact same way?”

My lungs forgot to take a breath.

“Have you two slept together yet?”

Cue sharp intake of breath. I shook my head side-to-side once then stopped. “Um, well? I mean yes. But, we actually slept. It didn’t get that far. But, we were both willing. And he did invite me to his quarters the night we left.”

“Wait, you’ve slept next to the man, in your clothes. But, you haven’t fucked? And you left for a road trip instead of finally fucking him?”

Dorian, tactful as always.

“Correct.” I nodded my head up and down again.

“You’re in love.”

“Shit.” I knew it.

“Do you want to know more?” he asked.

“Of course,” I said. 

“He’s in love.”

My chin was no longer in my hands. It was on the ground.


	7. Four Old Nags

Chapter 7: Four Old Nags

  


As the sun set on our third day since Varric and Cassandra had ridden off into the wild blue yonder, we had made a little headway towards Skyhold. It was slow going with Lily and “Old Bessie” as Dorian not-so-fondly referred to Cassandra’s horse. But Lily was reluctant to stay in one place, more reluctant than Bessie even. So we figured we’d stay on the path and see how far we got before we met up with whatever Inquisition forces were sent to rescue us four “old nags.” Dorian’s humor would have grown ever so slightly less amusing by the day if he weren’t my only speaking companion.

The limping speed of a nuggalope has probably never been measured before. But, I’d guess it to be around one and a half stone’s throws per day. I felt like I could still see the stream from the first day. And I could certainly still see the mountain range of the Frostbacks in the distance. Still puny. But, it felt like we had made quite the progress regardless.

The second night, Dorian felt the need to discuss the inherent dangers, which he insisted I had not properly given thought to, of a relationship with a former Templar who is currently in the throes of lyrium withdrawal. Seeing as how neither Dorian nor I had taken any lyrium in the week we had been on the road, I found I could easily imagine what Cullen was going through seeing as how I was pretty close to traveling with just two other old nags. Dorian who was craving lyrium while I was not, was slightly crankier than I, he being used to casting spells on a near daily basis as he researched Tevene history and the Venatori. Still, I listened intently to “Enchanter Grumpy-Pants” considering that I had little else with which to busy myself. 

Just talking about lyrium withdrawal made me crave lyrium though. I prided myself on the fact that I had never taken lyrium without reason. There were those few times with Max, my lover from the Circle, when he and I took it to see what sex was like on a fresh dose of lyrium. I considered that research. Dorian agreed. He too had done his own “research.”

These days, Dorian and I, both being responsible mature adult mages, only took lyrium in battle or when it was needed for spell casting. Neither of us took it for the rush. It was one of the highest forms of discipline in a mage, a great mage. So many took it at least daily, if not more often, just for the fix, to feel normal and ready for anything at any moment. But, the control came from only taking it when absolutely necessary. And that control was garnered through years of study, practice, apprenticeship, and having someone to keep you honest. We agreed to do that for each other from here on out. 

He said that Cullen had talked to him about it a bit also, and that he had been worried for him ever since. The symptoms of withdrawal were becoming more clear to us both. The headaches and irritability were becoming impossible for Cullen to hide. His temper had become increasingly short. Dorian told me that one day he had found him napping at his desk mid-afternoon, something Cullen never did. The man barely slept, let alone napped. 

“When I startled him, Cullen attacked me,” Dorian began. “He pinned me to the ground, and screamed at me. He obviously wasn’t really awake at the time. He had no idea who I was or where he was. He didn’t actually hit me or hurt me. But, he did scare the Maker’s teeth out of me.”

“I woke him once too, from a nightmare, that morning when I woke up with him. I too was afraid he’d lash out at me. So, I didn’t touch him. I just softly said his name, and told him he was safe,” I recalled.

“I’ve seen lyrium withdrawal victims go through this countless times,” Dorian told me. “I’ve woken them, not woken them. It’s a flip of the coin. He needs someone to help him through this. I’ve never seen anyone successfully go through this on their own.”

“Neither have I. I knew an Enchanter in the Circle at Ostwick who was being treated for lyrium withdrawal. She almost killed her roommate one night. They had been best friends for over 15 years. Held a letter opener to her jugular for over an hour while we talked her down. Mages don’t need magic to hurt people, do we?” I remembered the looks on the faces of the two women. They were both equally terrified for two different reasons.

“Beau,” Dorian said.

He rarely used my name. Most everyone called me “Inquisitor,” even my friends. Not Cullen though.

“Yeah, D?”

“If love him, you will make him let you help him. And you absolutely will have to force him. He is not going to want help. He is especially not going to want help from you. If he loves you, he won’t want to let you see him that way, at his absolute lowest, baring his soul, his darkness to you.” Dorian took my hand in his and looked into my eyes. “You’re his only hope, next to the lyrium.”


	8. Unbidden.

Chapter 8: Unbidden.

  


The next morning, just as the sun thought about kissing the sky, we awoke to the startling sound of hoof beats on the road ahead. They were coming fast and they were riding hard in our direction. Bessie snorted and whistled air through her nostrils at the interloper, warning the approaching horse that she was alert. Lily trumpeted softly at her to let her know she had her back. Even with only three good legs Lily would give any intruder pause, and maybe a concussion.

Dorian hugged his staff to his body and made eye contact with me as I did the same, ready to point and shoot at a moment’s notice. There was not time to get up and be “en garde” if we were going to be attacked. A black courser stopped short in front of us. Big brown boots dismounted and simply stood. In the shadows of pre-dawn, I could see he had his hands balled into fists on his hips, and hear that he was breathing heavily, as was his horse. Bessie whinnied. Lilly whistled.

“You two are just sleeping?” Cullen said. “I’m astonished. I thought you’d be dead or kidnapped at the very least!”

Dorian laid down his staff, rubbed his eyes, and got to his feet. “I’m offended. Why in Andraste’s good name would you think that?”

Cullen. He came for me. And he was mad.

“When I saw Cassandra riding your horse at breakneck speed through the courtyard , and Varric chasing behind her several minutes later, I thought the worst had happened. She barely filled me in on what was actually going on as I mounted up to leave. It didn’t . . .slow me down,” Cullen still struggled to catch his breath.

“Well, you made great time. As did they. You shouldn’t be here for at least another six hours,” Dorian patted him on the shoulder.

If Cullen’s gaze could have caught Dorian’s hand on fire it would have. Dorian took it back.

“See to my horse, will you please?” Cullen asked him.

“Did you have to bring Dragon?” Dorian whined, glaring at Cullen.

Cullen glared at Dorian.

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely, Commander,” Dorian replied looked pointedly wide-eyed in my direction as a warning.

I had come to a sitting position on top of my bedroll, rubbing the sleep from my eyes now that I knew we weren’t being attacked by highwaymen.

Cullen crouched down in front of me, on the balls of his feet. He rubbed a hand roughly over his face. I could hear his stubble rasp against his calloused palm. He let out a heavy sigh. He was right in front of me and I missed him so much in that moment. I had been missing him for weeks. It was culminating here. Every moment I wanted to be with him, yet spent apart from him, weighed down on me now. I felt like I was caught in the tide, being pulled out to sea. The words left me. I hoped he had them.

Time ticked on. I felt like I was waiting for news, news I expected to be the bad kind. The muscles of my body wouldn’t relax. I could feel myself start to shake, like you do when you hold your sword arm up for too long. Everything in me wanted to fall apart. I willed myself to hold it together.

“You were gone a long time.” His voice was flat.

“I was.” 

He felt like a stranger now.

“Do you know how dangerous it is out here for a party of two, especially two mages?” I could hear the razor blades in his voice.

Was he worried about me? Of course he was worried about me.

“Varric thought it was better than two women,” I tried joking, lightly. It almost physically hurt.

“You didn’t say ‘goodbye.’” I could hear pieces of his heart hit the gravel. “You didn’t come to me that night. You just left me . . .wondering.”

“I’m sorry.” I put my hand to my mouth, flicking my thumbnail back and forth across my front teeth. I didn’t know how to phrase what I felt.

Cullen sat on the ground in front of me, quite ungracefully, wearing his breastplate and gauntlets, as well as his greaves. 

It had been so long since we’d spent any real time together.

“I thought that maybe . . .” his voice hitched and trailed off. “ . . .that maybe you had forgotten about me. Or that maybe I don’t matter that way anymore,” he finished. “If your interest has changed, please just tell me now.”

He rubbed hard at the back of his neck with his hand, a motion with which I had become incredibly familiar. He did it when he was trying to make an important decision, and couldn’t or didn’t want to. Was he trying to decide if I still mattered? My heart jumped into my mouth. I couldn’t swallow. Why did it feel like we were breaking up? Maker be, I was going to be sick. I didn’t want that!

His hand left his neck and began rubbing vigorously across his forehead, squeezing at his temples.

“Your head hurts.” It was not a question. He had a pounding headache. I can’t imagine riding that hard for that long with a lyrium headache like that.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly.

“It’s not fine. Let me make some tea,” I offered.

He continued to rub at his head, his eyes, sitting there in front of me, full of sadness. “Beau,” his voice was soft. “You didn’t come to me that night. And when you left without saying ‘goodbye,’ it hurt. It hurt worse than this headache. And I’ve had it since you left.”

“It’s been at least three weeks! You must be in agony.” His pain was palpable.

“I am. But, the headache is only a small part of that.” 

Oh fuck. “Cullen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I - I didn’t mean to . . .I tried!”

“Oh?” was all he said, still rubbing.

I wished he would look at me. I didn’t know what to say now. I reached out for his head and went to bring my lips to it. He swatted my hand away with a flick of his wrist. 

“Don’t. Don’t patronize me. If there’s nothing here, then there’s nothing here. I don’t need your pity.” Both hands now rubbed across his forehead, down his temples, and back up.

Oh no. Now, I was crying. There was no way I could hold back the flood gates at this point.  I wanted to gather him in my arms and clutch him to my chest. I wanted him to lay his head in my lap so I could rub it for him, to cradle him in a dark room and talk to him in a whisper until he fell asleep. I wanted to bring him hot soup and tea and keep everyone from bothering him for just one whole day.

Tell him you love him. 

No, don’t tell him you love him just so that he can walk away from this. Don’t tell him you love him to try to get him to stay if he wants to leave. 

No, stupid! Tell him you love him!

Why couldn’t my brain decide what to do? “Cullen,” I reached out and put my hands on his knees. I had to touch him, to help get my point across. “Cullen, no. I wanted more than anything to come to you that night. I was on my way. Leliana stopped me, saying that a large rift had opened up just east of Emprise du Lion dangerously close to the town. Cassandra was already packing and gathering a crew. I was to meet them in the stables. I turned back, packed a bag, and headed straight for your office to say ‘goodbye’ to you. But, when I came to your office, you weren’t there. There wasn’t anyone around. I thought of leaving a note. Solas called to me from the lower courtyard with Lily in his hand. Cassandra and Dorian stood next to him. I had no time to wait for you. There was no one around to tell. So, I ran in and scrawled a short note on the back of a letter on your desk. I left it face up with your inkwell on top of it so it wouldn’t blow away. I was so worried about what you would think if you didn’t get it. But, there was nothing else I could do. I’ve spent all this time wondering. I was terrified you’d think the worst. And you did!”  Oh shit. Now I was sobbing.

He spoke in a deliberate and distant tone. “That inkwell was tipped over. The ink completely covered anything that was written on that page. I thought it was odd that the wind blew it over. But, I certainly don’t think that it was the wind any more.” His chest heaved. His eyes narrowed. “I think someone has been trying to keep us apart.”

I didn’t sob any longer. The tears just flowed down my cheeks. Unbidden. I looked up at him. I could see the threat of tears lingering in the corners of golden hazel eyes as the sun continued to reach the horizon, blocked in part by the leafless trees of winter, and the Frostbacks looming in the distance. I rubbed the backs of my knuckles across my lips. “I’m crazy about you.”

“I was so worried about you, Beau,” he said in a breath of relief. “My imagination took it to the worst possible place. I thought you didn’t want to tell me that you had changed your mind, or maybe you had found someone else, or didn’t want to take on my problems. I thought, ‘Cassandra left her on the road, with just one other mage and they’re going to get attacked and that’ll be that,’ and I would never know for sure why you didn’t come that night. I had to come find you, to make sure you were all right. I know Dorian and you can take care of each other. But, it’s the not knowing. It breaks my fucking heart every time that happens. Every time you leave, I worry about you until the moment I lay eyes on you again. I didn’t know love hurt so bad. No one tells you that part.”

Did he say “love?”

I took his hands from his lap, and held them in mine between us. He gave me courage. I was stronger with him than without him. Perhaps he felt the same way. “Cullen. Cullen look at me. Please?”

He looked up. Slowly. Those eyes held tears that still threatened to spill over. This wasn’t going to help. Those gorgeous amber eyes, echoing the rising sun, like flames dancing over a bonfire, held sadness and doubt. It broke my fucking heart too.

I squeezed his hands tightly in mine. “Cullen . . .I love you.”

He looked down again and squeezed his eyes shut tight. One tear escaped each eye. He let them fall and pursed his lips. He swallowed and held his breath for a moment. His shoulders quietly quaked as he squeezed my hands in return.

“I love you so much. It does hurt. When you’re not there I feel like I’ve been left all alone in a keep full of people. I just shut down. I try not to feel anymore. But, I just hurt worse. I don’t know what to do. I am so sorry you thought that I didn’t want you. I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life.” The tears kept coming. I was powerless to stop them.

His grip was so tight, I think I felt the bones of my hands rub together. After many long moments, when he looked up at me his face was tear streaked, but he had regained control over his emotions. His scar twitched. “I am not worthy of your love. But, I promise that I will live every day trying. I love you, Isabeau.”

We both leaned in. It was rather uncomfortable, physically speaking, to sit on the ground and lean in to kiss someone who was wearing armor, probably more so for the person in the armor.

“Let me take that off of you? I just-I just want to hold you for a moment.”

He smiled and nodded. I knelt next to him, slid the lion’s mantle from his shoulders, unbuckled the straps over his shoulders, and unfastened the latches at his sides removing his breastplate. Then, I unbuckled his gauntlets and pulled off his gloves. He reached down and unbuckled the straps of the greaves over his shins, and laid them on the ground. Then, he held his arms out to me.

I climbed into his lap, wrapping my legs around his back, and my arms around his neck. His arms enveloped me, squeezing me so tight, I was sure my ribcage was going to explode. His mouth ravished mine.

“I love you,” he said against my mouth.

All the air escaped my body. “I love you,” I said into him.


	9. Ebb and Flow

Chapter 9: Ebb and Flow

  


“Andraste take you, woman. I can’t believe you made me cry,” he said wiping at his eyes with the heels of his hands, then wiping my own face with his thumbs. He dried his tear soaked hands on my jacket. Then, he cupped a butt cheek in each hand and pulled me in closer.

“You’re right. Love does hurt. I’ve been miserable at the keep not getting to spend any time with you. Not getting to touch you or hold you, or hear about your day,” I said running my fingers through his thick tresses, lit strawberry blonde by the sunrise.

His eyes captured mine. “I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to get better at this. I’ve never really had to do it before. Make time for someone else in my life, that is.”

“Neither have I. Max, the mage from the Circle I mentioned, he just showed up when he wanted to. Neither of us really have any sense of obligation to the other. And it worked that way. But, what you and I have wasn’t there with he and I. I know now that I surely didn’t love him.” I paused, wondering how much soul to bare. “I need you, Cullen. And I don’t want to need you, but I do. When you’re not there I feel sick, and empty, and lonely even when I’m surrounded by my friends, and people I trust. I don’t think I can do this without you. It’s too hard. I don’t  want to have to do this without you any longer.”

A lock of hair blew in front of my face. He tucked it behind my ear and cupped the back of my head, entangling his fingers in my hair against my scalp. He brought my lips to his. They danced. 

“Need. That’s a good way to put it. I can’t sleep when you’re gone. I hardly get enough rest as is. But, when I’m worried about you it’s worse, so much worse.” He pressed his lips to my ear, nipped the lobe gently, and pressed me down into his lap. “At the moment I need something far less restful than sleep though.”

I could feel his erection straining through his skin tight leather riding breeches, pressing between my butt cheeks where I still sat on his lap, straddling him. He rolled his hips up into me. “We still haven’t finished what we started. I have had so long to think about having you under me.” His breath was hot on my neck, his voice thick with raw emotion.

“Dorian and I spoke at length about you and I. I don’t think he’ll be back anytime soon,” I said huskily into his ear. 

That’s all he needed to hear. His mouth was on my neck as he unfastened the buttons of my coat. I pushed the cassock from his shoulders, tugged his shirt tail from his waistband and lifted them up over his battle scared torso. He undid enough buttons to free my breasts from their confines and lowered his mouth to a nipple. I rocked my hips against his turgid shaft. I was already wet between my legs. As much as I would have liked for him to take his time with me, I thought that would need to be in another time and place. Here we were, not far from the main road, yet mostly hidden in the brush, in an ever brightening dawn. 

I put one hand square in the center of his chest and pressed him flat onto the ground. “But, I don’t think we should waste any time. We can take it slow when we’re back at the keep.”

He reached up, untied the laces at the front of my breeches, and eased the soft doeskin from my hips so that he could cup my the bare skin of my ass. He grabbed on and pressed us together, swaying my mound back and forth across his hard desire, our pants still between us. I scooted down his legs, untied the laces of his breeches, and leaned over him to run my tongue along the swell of his hip bones as I eased the leather off them. They jutted downward like an arrow, leading me to what I wanted most. He watched me hungrily. I rubbed his cock with the heel of my hand through the leather. It could not get any harder.

“I thought we weren’t taking our time here,” he hissed between his teeth.

“I’m just making sure you want it,” I teased him.

His eyes narrowed. He reached down, pushing his pants down his legs, freeing his erection. It swelled into its freedom, and throbbed in my direction. I ran my tongue as slowly as I could manage from base to tip, lightly cupping his balls in one hand, enjoying the texture of the course golden hair covering them. There was a small drop of pre-cum on the head of his penis. I licked it off and bit my lip, looking up at him. He reached down, grabbed my shoulders, and hauled me up to his mouth. 

“Off with ‘em,” he ordered me. I liked it. I stood up, slid my hands in against my thighs, and pushed my pants down below my knees. With my boots still on it was as good as I could do. I lowered myself back down to him. On my knees, I licked one nipple, then the other with my bare ass up in the air for him to see.  His hands started at my shoulders, and slowly slid down either side of my spine. He had me on my back before I could form my next thought. 

“I need you now!” he said as he fitted his entire body to mine. He rubbed his cock against my wet cunt for a few strokes, then pulled back and sheathed himself slowly, fully. We both stayed still for a breath or two before making any movement. The feeling of him inside of me, stretching me, filling me, it was perfection. He belonged there. Then, he pulled back, again slowly, but completely. The void was surprising. Immediately, he put the head back against my entrance and sheathed himself again. It felt just as good the second time. I could feel him pulsating inside of me. I clenched my own muscles around him, massaging his cock.

He stifled a moan. “Makers breath!”

I reached down and took two handfuls of the beautiful unmarred flesh of his small, round backside and pulled him into me even further. He began moving then. His body rippled against mine from hips to shoulders, like a wave of the sea. Mine followed. High tide on one shore. Low tide on the other. Give and take. Ebb and flow. He could have pounded himself into me, grinding me into the earth below. But, he didn’t. He tantalized me from within the way I had done to him only moments before.

He pulled out so that only the very tip of him was inside of me, then pushed in a fraction of an inch, and pulled back out to the tip. Every time he pushed in a little deeper, and a little deeper, and a little deeper . . .and . . .a little deeper still. Until he was again fully sheathed. I was at his mercy. He brought me higher and higher, threatening the peak of arousal, only to take it back. He stilled for a moment, breathing heavily against my forehead, pressing a kiss there.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. He didn’t want it to be over yet.

“Yes, sir,” I said, coquettishly. Neither did I.

He pulled his face back, his scar smirking at me.

I bit my lip.

His lips came down on mine hard. His tongue probed into my mouth. Mine lapped at his. My hips careened wildly, my inner muscles clenched and unclenched around his rock hard cock as it pumped into me. I could feel the tension building, the muscles in his back ripple with the anticipation of release, the tremor rising from the depths of my soul. His rhythm accelerated. He was almost there. As was I. 

His breath was heavy in my ear. He reached under us, grabbed my ass in his hands pulling himself ever further inside of me. I was in control no longer, held to him by his strength and his will, crushed under him by ecstasy inducing need. I wanted to wrap my legs around his, but couldn’t as I realized our want was too great to give us time to remove all of our clothing. I wrapped my arms around his back, grabbed his heaving shoulder muscles in my hands, and dug my fingers into him.

My climax climbed higher and higher with his. I buried my face in the crook of his neck. I felt myself begin to tip over the edge. To keep myself from screaming out, I bit down on the juncture of where his neck meets his shoulder. That was when he too finally let go and found his release. At that moment it was as if we became one being, alight in a halo of pure white light behind my eyelids. He moaned quietly, yet strongly into my ear as he spilled into me, his entire body going rigid with mine in earth shattering orgasms.

  


Cullen rested some of his weight on his forearms so to keep from crushing me, as he lay on top of me spent. His breathing still came heavily into my ear as our bodies relaxed, and we once again gained awareness of our surroundings. I didn’t want it to end. But, now I began to feel eager to get back on the road and back to Skyhold to see where this would take us. 

He lifted himself up and searched my face with his eyes. They were narrowed and glassy. “I didn’t know it could be like this.”

“Neither did I,” I said, reaching up to cup his face in my hands, bringing it back down to my lips.

He pushed himself up to his knees, hitched his breeches back over his hips, and extended his hands to me. “Let’s get you out of the dirt,” he said, apologetically.

We re-clothed ourselves and dusted off each other’s backsides, picking debris out of hair, and straightening shirts. He pulled my back against his chest and hugged me to him tightly. I awkwardly crossed my arms over his. He pressed a kiss to the side of my head and murmured, “I love you. I’ll never tire of saying it.”

I squeezed his arms in mine, and let my head fall back against his chest, my eyes closed. “I love you.”

A twig snapped underfoot. “Dorian, you saw nothing,” Cullen said, icily. “I hear one word about this and I’ll know where it came from.”

“People already talk, Commander,” Dorian said. I could hear the nonchalance in his voice. “They need no help from me to tell tales of the Inquisitor and her Commander.”

“I don’t want her reputation sullied.” Cullen sounded awfully concerned.

Dorian stepped into view. “If you want her ‘reputation’ upheld, you’ll have to at least show them how you feel about her. You can’t keep it a secret. It’s too late for that, I’m afraid.”

“I suppose it will be easier that way,” he said releasing me from his embrace.

I turned to face him. “Only if you’re all right with it.”

“Isabeau, you’re quickly becoming one of the most powerful people in all of Thedas. We can’t control what they say about you,” his eyes were worried.

“No, we can’t. So let’s not bring them into this, into us,” I suggested. “Isn’t that why we have Leliana and Josephine? That’s their side of the Inquisition, right? Or am I misinformed about their job descriptions?”

Dorian and Cullen both laughed. 

“You’re not wrong,” Dorian said.

“I’m still unclear as to what exactly their duties cover, but I trust your judgment,” Cullen decided.


	10. Two Silvers

Chapter 10: Two Silvers

  


Cullen had thoughtfully requested that several squires head out in our direction with first aid supplies and extra horses. They reached us before mid-day and Cullen assured me that they were completely capable of getting Lily safely back to Skyhold, and that I was needed. They brought a trio of Taslin Striders for the three of us to make good time on our way back to the keep. This breed of desert dwelling horses was especially suited to long, fast rides. The trek would in no way be a burden to them. Dorian chose Kiki, a spirited grey mare. I chose the bay pinto gelding that everyone called Lefty for his penchant to refuse right hand turns. Cullen rode the largest of the three, a palomino gelding named Midas. Dorian thanked Cullen for his thoughtfulness on bringing him a fast horse, and the three of us made excellent time back to the keep. 

I had hoped that returning after dark would allow us to find ourselves in a quiet keep ensconced in sleep. But, the days were short and the nights were long this time of year. The keep still bustled with firelit activities. Despite my usual routine of untacking and grooming my own mount, I agreed to allow my horse to be seen to by a squire as Cullen insisted on whisking me away. 

“We are going to finally have a meal together. Even if it isn’t private and romantic,” he insisted.

We walked hand-in-hand through the lower courtyard, following Dorian, not too closely, he was obviously giving us some space. 

“It feels as if everyone has stopped to stare at us,” I remarked to Cullen with a sideways glance.

Cullen said slowly, “That’s because they have.” 

We ascended the stairs to the upper courtyard towards the tavern. He opened the door to the tavern for me and the Herald’s Rest erupted into applause and bawdy comments.

“She made it!”

“The nug did NOT eat her!”

“She looks like she’s in one piece to me!”

“I thought you said she was sleeping with the Tevinter?” “No, not the Tevinter, the Com-man-der!”

“Ay, does that mark on her hand tickle?”

And from behind me, “Cassandra owes me two silvers. I’m going to collect.”

Cassandra, Bull, Varric, and Sera were gathered around a table. Dorian tapped Cassandra on the shoulder. She dropped something into his palm. Neither of them said a word, nor looked in our direction. Cullen pulled a chair out for me, took the seat across from me, and waved over a serving girl. 

“What’ll it be, Commander?” she said, leaning her hip against the table and crossing one ankle over the other.

The peanut gallery died down, or at least I was able to ignore them now.

Cullen’s eyes narrowed and gestured in my direction.

She turned around slowly. “Beg’n’ yer pardon, miss. What can I get for ya?”

I was almost too tired to make a decision. “Ale, the good one though. Not that bottom of the barrel sludge. And something hot, filling, and uncharred. If I see anything that looks like it was cooked over a fire I’ll chuck it at Dorian.”

Dorian’s mustache twitched back and forth. “I’m not cooking for you anymore.”

I smiled a big toothy grin at him.

“Fine. I’ll have what she’s having,” he said.

She turned back to Cullen. “Me too,” he said, and crooked a finger at her. 

I recognized the way she bent over, chest forward, butt out.

He smiled that charming, snaggle-lipped smile of his. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Antoinette. But, you can call me Toni, Cutie Pie.” She skimmed a hand down his upper arm.

His chin tilted upwards. “Antoinette, you will address the Inquisitor using her title at all times. And she will be served the moment she walks in that door from this moment forward. Understand?”

It was if she buttoned up her blouse and walked into the Chantry. “Y-y-y-yes, Ser, Commander.” She turned and curtsied to me. “My apologies, Inquisitor.”

I wanted to tell her that it was all right, that he made all the girls feel that way. It couldn’t be helped. And apologies weren’t necessary. It wasn’t as if she straddled him on the table, not really. But, I wasn’t going to undermine his authority.

“Apology accepted, Antoinette. You have my leave.”

She scampered off to the kitchen.

When I looked back at Cullen he had admiration in his eyes. I smiled at him. He was truly breathtaking. I felt like he commanded the attention of every person in Skyhold when he was near. He certainly commanded mine. 

I wanted to run my hands through his perfectly wind tousled hair. The usual golden hue of his eyes was now darkened by the dim evening glow of the tavern’s fireplaces and sconces. The look that was there just a moment ago, slowly evolved into something else. The corners of his mouth eased. The crinkle of his brow smoothed. His lips fell apart ever so slightly. The drum of his fingers on the table stilled. His gaze wandered. It was as if every other person, the bard, the ruckus - it all faded away. It was just him and me. I could tell that he was thinking exactly what I was thinking. I felt his eyes trace the errant strands of hair that fell down my face, the too high collar of my jacket, the outline of my lips, before coming back to settle on my eyes again. He nodded towards the door.

I nodded in agreement.

He flipped two silvers towards Cassandra, and held his hand out to me as he stood.

“This round is on me,” she announced.

“I’ll have them send it up,” Dorian said to the backs of our heads.

I waved as I walked out.

  


As I pulled the door shut behind me Cullen turned away from the main keep entrance and lead me towards the back of the tavern. Neither of our quarters were in this direction. My confusion was momentary. We rounded the back corner of the tavern and he pressed me up against the stone wall. He was rough and fast. His hands grabbed my face, pulling it up to his. His mouth captured mine, crushing our lips together, his tongue a welcome invader. 

I realized that we had still not managed to get ourselves in a state of complete undress together. And here we were so far from either of our quarters. Mine was surely closer, if only by the reasoning of needing to climb less stairs to get there. I might have to be the one to start the lead at this point though. 

He derailed that thought by bending down and scooping an ass cheek into each hand, and hoisting me up into the air. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he flattened my back to the wall again. He held me there effortlessly, ravaging my mouth with his. A cold breeze banked off of the ramparts above, showering us in snow and debris. He leaned his forehead to mine.

Trying to catch my breath in the cold air made me cough. 

He set my feet gently back onto the ground. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I just think that’s our sign to take this inside, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry.”  His eyes were glassy and his voice was gruff. He reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear.  “I just, couldn’t keep my hands off you for another moment,” his smirked. 

My heart leapt into my throat. I reached up and traced the tip of one finger down his neck, under the collar of his shirt. “I know what you mean.”

He moaned, deep in his chest and took my face in his hands again for another thorough, but quick kiss.

I looked up at him, a twinkle in my eye. “Commander, would you like to come inspect my quarters?”

  


We practically ran hand-in-hand across the practice yard, up the front staircase, through the Great Hall to my quarters. As soon as he closed the door that lead into what must have been meant to be some sort of antechamber, he reached for my hand, spun me into his arms, and wrapped them around me. My entire body submitted into his demands. I was drained of energy, partially from the weeks I had just spent on the road, and partially from not eating a decent meal all day long. I was still standing by his strength alone. I leaned into Cullen a bit too much, and my knees buckled. He caught me against his chest.

“Oh, my delicate warrior . . .you’re so tired.” He swept me up into his arms and turned to carry me upstairs when a someone knocked at the door.

“Food?” I asked, feeling slightly renewed.

“Yes, Inquisitor,” I heard through the door.

Once again, Cullen managed the door without setting me down. “Take it and set it down on a table upstairs,” he ordered.

Two boys hurried through the door. One lad holding two jugs, and the other carrying a tray of bread and cheese, bowls, and utensils rushed up the stairs. Cullen shut the door behind them and followed them up. He insisted on carrying me up all 4 flights of steps before setting me down on the sofa. He dropped several coins into the hands of the boys on their way out, and knelt at my feet.

I had already curled into a ball, my head pillowed on the armrest.

“Beau?”

“I liked ‘Delicate Warrior,’ you know?”

He threw back his head and laughed. His finger tips softly ran across my forehead, down my cheek, to cup my chin. “My delicate warrior, do you want to eat or sleep?”

“Both. Neither. Kiss me again,” I requested.

His lips found mine. “Shall I carry you across the room?”

I stretched, yawned, and sat up. “No, I need to eat. I’m so hungry.”

“I’ll get you something. Why don’t you get ready for bed?” he suggested.

“Mmm hmmm,” I mumbled.

He pulled my boots off one-by-one, then helped me to my feet and swatted me on the bum, pushing me towards my wardrobe. I stripped and kicked my road-dust laden traveling clothes into the corner. There was a fresh cloth next to the full wash basin. I kicked off my smallclothes too and wiped the rest of the road from my body. As I turned back to my wardrobe, I glanced at Cullen.

He had stopped what he was doing. His palms were flat on my desk, and he was watching my every move. “Don’t stop on my account.” His voice came from the depths of his chest.

I chose long loose fitting pants made from plum colored Antivan silk  and a matching sleeveless V-neck blouse.  I pulled them on slowly, smoothing out the fabric afterward. I walked over to him and he handed me a mug of ale. 

“I enjoyed watching you change,” he said, setting a hand on the swell of my hip.

I finished the ale in just a few big gulps. He fed me a spoonful of brown stew. It was hot, salty, and had chunks of the meat of the day and root vegetables. I didn’t even care to consider what the meat of the day might have been. 

“Come on,” I smiled slyly at him, picking up the mug and pitcher of ale. 

He picked up a bowl of the stew and followed me over to the sofa. We set the dinner down on the table and I went around to stand behind him and remove that cumbersome breastplate. Underneath of it he wore a long burgundy cassock, a piece of his old Templar garments, turned into a vest, that he twisted around his upper body. I certainly enjoyed the way it draped over his chest making his bulging pectorals stand out. I unwrapped it and let it fall to the floor, then tugged his shirt over his head. I closed my eyes and pressed a kiss to that tender spot where his neck met his shoulder on one side, and then the other. His head fell back onto the cushion, and I kissed his forehead. His eyes fluttered open and I let my hands roam over his shoulders, down his chest, to settle on the amazing plains of his abdominals, tracing the valleys between them.

“You are truly a gift from the Maker,” I said, kissing his ear.

His head nuzzled against mine. “So are you. Come here, my love.” He opened his arms invitingly.

I pitched myself over the back of the sofa into his arms, which clamped down on me tightly. His lips descended into my mane of hair and lavished a hundred kisses all over my head. I giggled happily, and he began to tickle my ribcage. I kicked and bucked, but he held me firmly against his wrought iron body. In my state it didn’t take me long to tire, and the squirming ceased.

“I didn’t know you were so wonderfully ticklish.” His lips flicked at my ear.

“There was only one way to find out. And that wasn’t going to happen in the sparring ring.” I settled into his embrace.

“Isabeau . . .” He let my name hang in the air.

I listened as it floated there. The sound of his breath hypnotizing.

He rested his chin on the top of my head. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Those stupid tears threatened to return. I wrapped my arms tightly around his torso and pressed my face to his bare skin. “Cullen, I feel the same way.”

  


Later, after we had finished off the stew before it got cold, he carried me to bed. I watched as he removed the rest of his pieces of armor and neatly stacked all of them on the floor. Then, he picked up his pile of discarded clothing and draped it over the back of the sofa. He removed his boots, and leaned them against the table leg. Then, he shucked off his pants, and they joined his shirt. He came to bed in only his smallclothes, nestled in behind me, and pulled me into the warm shelter of his embrace.

He smoothed out my wayward hair to get it out of his face, and pressed a long, hot kiss to my shoulder. “Sleep now, my Delicate Warrior. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Cullen, what if you never went anywhere? I mean, what if you always slept here, with me, from here forward? I have more than enough room to share with you.” I waited with bated breath for an answer.

His lips stayed there at my shoulder, unmoving. I could feel his scar twitch. He was quiet for several moments.

I began to regret asking.  Too soon. It was too soon.

He released the breath he had been holding. The warmth streamed down my back. “I would like that more than anything else.”

I turned in his arms, to face him, there in what had just become our bed. “My heart hurts every night I spend away from you when I’m on the road. I don’t want that here. I want to spend all of my nights with you.” A few tears escaped. I just couldn’t hold them in anymore. Not my emotions. Not with Cullen.

He wiped them away with his thumb. “I feel the same way. I won’t spend any more nights standing over that desk in my office. When you’re here, I will get the joy of going to bed with you. And when you’re away, I’ll probably stand here at your desk instead, wishing you were.”

“That’s a fair exchange. It’s your desk now. I don’t even have anything to put in a desk.”

He pulled me closer. “I know something I could put  on the desk.”

He had snuffed all of the candles, and smoored the fire before coming to bed. I could still clearly see his face by moonlight. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The stars danced in his eyes . . .

. . .or perhaps, that was my reflection.


	11. Feel Like A Templar

Chapter 11: Feel Like A Templar

  


We awoke the next morning, naked and intertwined. I lay on my stomach, one leg hitched up in front of me, the other reaching for him, the top of my foot resting on his shin. He lay on his back, one arm outstretched to me, his warm hand in the small of my back. I stretched and moaned. He still slept peacefully. It made me happy. Perhaps my presence would help to quell his lyrium dreams. I rolled to face him, and study his slumbering form.

The angles of his jaw were square but soft. The stubble on his cheeks told of a good week without meeting a razor. His wavy golden hair stuck out in all directions. I struggled with deciding to let him sleep or wake him. I could have watched him sleep for hours. I didn’t know how long it would last. I had only woken with him one other time so far. I would learn. And soon I would know how this would go. 

He was mine. And I was his.

He began to stir and murmur in his sleep. His mouth and fingers began to twitch. His chest muscles looked as if he were ready to spring. “Noooo!” he yelled as he sat straight up. “Don’t take . . .her.” He began to realize he had awoken from a dream and turned to face me. He fell upon me, h is body wracked with sobs , holding me.

I bit my lip to hold back my own tears. “Cullen. I’m here. It’s alright.” I managed to get my arms out and wrapped around his big body the best I could as he crushed me. I gently rubbed my hand down the length of his long back and back up again. “Let it out.”

He continued to cry into my pillow and shoulder. “They took you. The Templars.”

“It was only a dream. I’m here. I will always be here for you.” I sighed. He was so scared.

His breathing slowed and he gathered his composure after a time. He rubbed at his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows to look at me. His mouth came down on mine. His hands cupped my face. When he pulled back he met my eyes. “They told me that you failed your Harrowing. They were taking you away . . .for the Rite of Tranquility. I wouldn’t let go of you. They beat me, the mages and the Templars both, but it didn’t stop me. Then, the mages held me with magic. And I couldn’t stop them because I’m not a Templar any longer. I watched them drag you out of the room. You were already Tranquil. You just let them take you. Your eyes. The mark on your forehead. You were gone. I’ll never ever support the Rite again. I can’t - I can’t picture you that way, Beau.”

“Oh, Cullen! It sounds so awful. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re still having these lyrium dreams. If there was a way for me to take them away, I would.”

“I felt so helpless,” his voice was soft and small. “I  was so helpless. I can’t stop the magic anymore.”

“I can.” I tried to be reassuring. But, I couldn’t help him.

“I know. You are an incredibly powerful mage. I’ve seen what you can do. You’re the strongest mage I have ever met, and not just because of your mark.” His fingertips trailed down my face.

He rarely referred to the mark on my hand, the anchor. The glowing green cloud of energy emanating from my left palm closed Fade rifts, and stopped demons. However, it was a burden I wanted to be free of one day, no matter its power.

“Do I scare you?” I didn’t know if I wanted to know the answer to that question. But, I asked it.

“No.” He did not hesitate. “But, there was a time when I hated mages. I was terrified of them. In the Circle of Ferelden, during the Blight. They tortured me. Blood mages and abominations made me watch as they killed my fellow Templars, my friends. I was too strong for them, and I was spared from that fate. The Hero of Ferelden rescued me from their prison. I had been in love with her at one point while she was still in the Circle under my charge. Now, I was terrified of her. Because she was a mage, even as she released me, saved me.”

His eyes looked through me, to a past I did not know, but was now beginning to see.

“Until I met Hawke, and she helped me stand against Knight-Commander Meredith in Kirkwall, I couldn’t even think of a mage as a person. It sickens me to think that there was a time when I would not have even looked at you, a time when this, what’s between us, could never have been my future. I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone else in this world.”

“Cullen,” I said placing a hand on his cheek.

“I know you don’t need me to protect you. But, I would do anything for you,” he said as he bowed his head to my chest.

What does one say to such an outpouring of love and trust?

“I’m sorry that you went through those horrible things. But, they made you who you are today. You’re strong, the strongest man I know. You will get through this. And I am here for you. I do need you to protect me. You hold my heart now. It’s yours. I trust you with it. I have already given it to you completely.” 

He pressed a kiss to my breast, over my heart. “I will protect it with my life.” Then, he nuzzled that breast affectionately, taking the nipple into his mouth.

Electricity shot through me. And that gave me an idea. “Cullen, do you trust me?”

“Implicitly,” he answered, his mouth still full of breast.

“Do you remember how to purge a spell?”

He hoisted himself up onto his forearms. “Of course I do. It’s only been a little over a year. Why?”

“Do it.”

“I can’t. You know this,” his face twisted in confusion, the scar pulling up on the corner of his lip.

“You can. You’re still having withdrawal symptoms and lyrium dreams, even though it has been over a year since you’ve taken any lyrium. The lyrium is still in you. You still have your Templar abilities. Use one on me.” I raised my hand to him.

“I would never use my Templar abilities on you, even if I did still have them.” He looked offended.

“What if I were possessed? What if you had to stop a demon?” I asked him.

“I can’t imagine that. Not after going through what that dream just made me feel. Don’t ask me to.” He was hurt now.

I had to keep pushing. “But, you can stop it. You can stop them. It was just a dream. A dream where you failed.”

Anger flashed across his features. 

Good. He needed to get angry. “Would you fail, Cullen? My life is on the line. Do you fail?”

I brought my hand closer to his face and paused a moment. I was readying an electricity spell and was going to shock him with it.

His nostrils flared. His eyes narrowed. His lips tightened.

I laid my hand on the side of his face as I cast my spell.

Nothing happened.

I cast it again.

Still nothing.

I took my hand away and laid it on his shoulder. “Cullen, you did it.”

His eyes went wide. His mouth hung open. “You really tried to shock me?”

“I did. Twice.”

“I negated your magic?”

“You did. You still have your Templar abilities, even though you’ve renounced the Order, and stopped taking lyrium.”

“Isabeau, how did you know?” he asked.

“I didn’t. You just . . .feel like a Templar to me. So, I gave it a shot.”

“I don’t know if it’s a good thing that I “feel like a Templar” to you,” he said with that smirk I loved.

“You were a Templar for most of your life. And you were a great Templar. Perhaps you can leave the Order behind you, but not the knowledge or the sense of duty.”

He rested his forehead on mine. A gesture I had already grown to love. “Perhaps you’re right about that. You were right about my ability.”

“Do you want to try another one?” I asked, thinking he may want to test the rest of his old Templar training.

“Later. Beau, you have no idea what this means to me.” His eyes were fathomless pools of emotion now.

“I do.” I took his face in my hands and brought his forehead down to my lips. “That’s why I did it. I know how you feel about the Order. It’s how I feel about the Circle. But, what they taught us? That’s important. Just as important as you are to me, Cullen.”

He kissed me then, with a passion I had never before felt in him. I could feel the rumble come from his chest. Just as I realized what was happening, he entered my body in one swift motion, sheathing himself fully.

I cried out in surprise, and in pleasure as his hips heaved against mine. I wrapped my legs around his so that he could go even deeper, reaching the place in me where the ecstasy built quickly and steadily. He kept his rhythm slow, exhibiting the utmost restraint and patience I had ever experienced. The air around us hummed with the energy between us. I could feel the hairs on my arms stand on end. My skin rippled with pins and needles all over my body. I felt the gooseflesh arise across his back, the static tingle in my fingertips. 

His breath was slow, and hot, and heavy on my neck and chest. I lightly scraped my fingernails down his back, down his buttocks, then back up. I clutched at his shoulders pulling myself up to his mouth. He lowered himself down on top of me, so that our bodies were pressed together, head to toe. The tip of his tongue grazed the roof of my mouth, and traced my lower lip. I found it with mine, inviting it back in, nipping at his lower lip when he pulled it away, holding it between my teeth, pulling it towards me, pinching the end before letting it snap back to him. His mouth found my neck, sucking and biting, and licking hungrily. The sound of my own heartbeat grew, threatening to drown out everything else.

My body arched up into his. His hand grabbed my jaw and pressed my ear to the pillow as hemoved to the other side of my neck, running his tongue from ear to collar bone and back. Then, down again, across my collar bone to the other side of my neck, up to my ear where he suckled and nipped my earlobe. He moved inside of me, slowly this whole time, letting the rhythm be his guide. His hand glided across my cheek to tangle his fingers into my hair. My mouth wanted his again, began seeking it. That hand grabbed a handful of hair close to my scalp and held me in place. 

I gasped. I moaned. He pulled, exposing my throat to his ministrations again, then moving lower. My hands followed him, finding handfuls of his thick hair. He grabbed both of my wrists in one of his big hands, and pinned them to the bed over my head. I tugged gently, and wriggled beneath him. He tightened his grasp and ignored my mocking pleas. He laved attention over my breasts, trailed his tongue down my ribcage, followed by a cool stream of air. My nipples puckered, as did the gooseflesh. He then trailed kisses down my belly, stopping at my patch of dark curls. 

“I have been waiting to taste you here. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to bury my face between these lips?”

His breath tickled against the wetness already there. His hand released its grasp on my wrists, its fingertips alighting fires to the nerves tracing from wrist to hip in their wake. I pressed my hands against the headboard, arching breast into hand as it skimmed over. He quickly rolled a nipple between his finger tips before the hand continued its journey to the juncture between my legs. He easily slipped one finger into me, spreading the moisture. Then, another dipped inside of me.

I could feel my inner muscles clench at the welcome intrusion. He stroked me from within. He crooked his fingers inside of me, reaching for that spot that sent my arousal climbing.

“Another,” I begged. “Put another one in.”

He did. His hand moved, slowly, in and out, hooking them upwards inside of me, rubbing that spot. Then, he removed his hand, replacing it with his mouth.  He slid his arms underneath my raised knees, placing my thighs on his shoulders to either side of his head, drawing me in even further. His took two handfuls of my hips, immersing himself in me. He started at the bottom of my nether lips and worked its way to the top, back and forth, up and down. Tasting. Tantalizing. He found the small button of flesh in the middle and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, over and over again. My hips began to follow his motion. His tongue found its way inside of me, in and out, in and out, over the button. His teeth joined gently plucking at my flesh, nipping, pinching. Tongue followed teeth, soothing, stroking, smoothing.

I clutched at the pillow under my head, my voice joined with our energy filling the room. I moaned and groaned, gasped and sighed, heaved heaping lungsful of air. He continued flicking and licking, suckling and nibbling. My orgasm came in an explosion of energy. I saw rainbow colored sparks ignite behind my eyes.

My climax rose, higher and higher. The energy was singing in my ears, harmonizing with my heartbeat. 

His mouth slowed then stopped. I felt him run a hand down one thigh, setting my leg back down on the mattress next to him, then do the same with the other. I cracked my eyes open lazily, watching him sit back on his haunches. He picked up the corner of a sheet and wiped his face on it. He smiled at me.

“Did you know you did that?” he asked.

“Well, I have had that happen before. With you. Not too many hours ago,” I reminded him.

“No, not that. The . . .current. I watched it flow through you, under your skin. Then, it flowed into me.” He looked surprised.

“Did I hurt you?” I was scared now. Was I having trouble controlling my magic?

“No! No, you didn’t hurt me. It was . . .exhilarating. I’ve never felt so . . .alive, aware, connected.” He ran his hands up my legs, and laid himself prostrate on top of me, holding his weight on his forearms. “Your energy, your magic it spilled into me, ran through me.”

“Cullen, what are you saying?”

“I can feel it in me, Beau. Whenever I would use my Templar abilities, I could discern the difference between the magical elements. Each one would feel different. But, that feeling left the moment my ability ended. With this, with you, I felt it the whole time. When you found your release, I could see your magic. I could feel your magic. I can still feel it in me.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve never had something like this happen before. I don’t know what’s wrong. We can stop. It’s alright.”

He took my face in his hands and kissed me. “It’s amazing. Nothing is wrong. I can’t explain what’s happening. But, it doesn’t matter. If you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

I shook my head, the anxiety beginning to melt away at his words of reassurance. “I don’t want to stop. It’s just that I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

He captured my gaze, hazel to green, soul to soul. “I will never, ever be afraid of you. And you will never have reason to fear me either. I promise you, Isabeau. We are not mage and Templar, not to each other.”

I didn’t think I could love him more than I did in that moment. I pulled him down to my mouth, kissing him, loving him with every part of my being. Then, I rolled myself on top of him and got up to a sitting position. Straddling him, I pushed my hair away from my face and stretched my hands over my head arching my back. His hands went to my hips, then further up to my breasts, around my shoulders, and down my back to rest on the swell of my buttocks. I rocked my hips back and forth, over his hard cock between my legs, sharing my wetness with him without taking him inside of me, enjoying the friction of him on my clitoris. His hands followed, grabbing, kneading.

I slid up, rocked my hips downward, and took his hardness into me. He slid in easily; I was more than ready. He filled me, stretched me a little further than I had been a moment ago. I could feel him throbbing inside of me. Watching me come must have brought him so close to his own release. He held me in place for a moment. My body clenched and unclenched around the length of him. Ever so slowly, I began to rock my hips in a circular motion, around, and around. Up, over, back, under, up, over, back, under.

His head fell back, exposing his throat. His mouth hung open taking in deep, big breaths. His hands left my hips to clutch at the covers beneath him. I rose up over him, pressing the palms of my hands to the sky, and tangling them in my hair. He opened his eyes and met mine. I rode him, up and down his hard length, clenching at his base, and releasing as I neared the tip. He grabbed my hips, pressed me down, holding me to him. I rocked there, against him, clutching at him from the inside, taking us both higher and higher. His hands found my breasts, cupping their soft weight as they bounced with our rhythm as his hips started to follow mine. 

His eyes closed. I bent over him, pressing my chest to his. He grabbed two handfuls of my hair and brought my mouth to his, invading it with his tongue. He throbbed inside of me again. I could tell he was getting close. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and head, laying my mouth to his ear. I flicked it with my tongue, sucked the lobe into my mouth, pinched the edge as I released it. I slowed my rhythm, but intensified the pressure. My own release approached again. 

I whispered in his ear. “Come with me, Cullen.” He clutched at my back, resting his long forearms up my spine, and his hands on my shoulders, holding me to him. He moaned, a guttural, primal noise that rumbled up deep from within his chest as his pace quickened, taking me with him. I screamed my own release into the pillow, and his ear, our bodies joining in simultaneous spasms of pure pleasure. 


	12. Trevelyan Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor and her mother exchange their first letters.

Dear Mother,

I apologize for not writing to you before now. I have been at a loss for words over the deaths of Father and the boys. I fear that I have not had nearly enough time to grieve. I cannot fathom what it is that you are going through. And I cannot express how sorry I am that I have not been there for you. I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me.

I imagine that Elsbie has been around more though with the Circles being closed. I hope to have enough mental fortitude left after writing you to write her as well. I would like to take this opportunity to invite the both of you to come visit me here at Skyhold.

Our armed forces are lead by one of the greatest military men in all of Thedas, Commander Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Ferelden. He was raised in the Chantry, and served as a Templar in Kirkwall during the mage rebellion as Knight-Captain. Afterward, he served as Knight-Commander as Kirkwall began to rebuild, before being recruited to the Inquisition by Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast of Nevarra. The Inquisition will send an escort to you to assure your safe passage to Skyhold shall you decide to visit.

And on the topic of Commander Cullen, I must share with you the joy that this man has brought into my life. Mother, he is without reproach the finest man I have ever met. He is loyal, steadfast, and courageous, while being intelligent, compassionate, and mindful. It is but recently that we have entered into a romance.

I love him, Mother. It would please me greatly if you would come to meet him. I cannot be sure what it is that our future together holds, for we are indeed at war, and there are times when we must first consider the needs of the Inquisition and of all of Thedas before our own. Though it is not news to my heart that I certainly wish to spend the rest of my life with him. I do not doubt that he feels the same for me, despite the fact that we have not discussed such far off matters in the face of peril.

At the moment Skyhold is expected to remain relatively peaceful for some time as we have only just returned from Val Royeaux where we were instrumental in aiding the Empress in retaining her seat upon the throne. We are receiving steady supplies from both Orlais and Ferelden, assuring us that we have attained a prolonged peace in the South, at least throughout the rest of the winter. It is my understanding that the Free Marches continue to remain quiet, and if you know that to be true I wish that you, and Elsbie if she can leave her books, would venture South.

You may send your return missive with this messenger raven. His name is Bear, because he eats like one. Feed him absolutely anything to keep him happy and quiet while his is in your company.

  


Your loving daughter,

Isabeau

  


P.S. They are calling me “The Inquisitor” these days. And three of the likely candidates for the next Divine reside in Skyhold and serve in positions of power within the Inquisition. I hope these bribes are working. I’ll explain it all when you arrive.

  


  


  


My Darling Daughter,

Of course I will come visit you and the Inquisition. I will be all the rave in Marcher society when I return. My daughter, the Inquisitor! The Commander sounds beyond qualified. Have him send the escort of which you spoke. It will only be myself and a dozen or so servants. Elsbie will not be able to leave her studies at the Circle at Ostwick. She sends her regrets.

It should go without saying that this Cullen clearly cannot be the next Bann. I will send out word for suitors to begin calling upon you, as it appears you are through your grieving period. I will put word out into the Free Marches, but I think I’ll expand our search to Nevarra and Orlais as well. They have good stock, and better vineyards.

I am proud of you,

Mother


	13. Lady Trevelyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Trevelyan arrives at Skyhold

Before my Mother, Lady Trevelyan, even arrived at Skyhold missives began pouring in regarding my courtship. I had asked Cullen to send the finest armed escort for my Mother and her entourage, but could not let him read her letter. While Cullen could not become the next Bann of the family, that didn’t mean that I had any intention of marrying a noble in order to continue the Banndom. Surely, it wouldn’t matter if the Inquisitor decided to marry . . .it hurt my heart to refer to Cullen as a “Commoner.” He was anything but common.

Additionally, I currently had no intention of returning to Ostwick to settle. The Inquisition was a cause to which I had dedicated myself, and I could not imagine leaving it. And while I missed my Mother and sister, with Father and the boys gone, I wasn’t ready think about what it would be like to return to our home knowing they weren’t going to be there. 

  


What I had thought of it countless times was what the people would think should the Inquisitor marry the Commander of her forces. Trying to look on it with an outsider’s perspective I thought it showed dedication and camaraderie. But, I was not the one in charge of our public appearance. I couldn’t even bring myself to broach the subject with Cullen, how could I bring it up to Josephine? I suppose half of my trepidation was out of the fear that perhaps Cullen hadn’t given any thought to marrying me, and the other half was probably the fear that perhaps he had given it thought and didn’t want to marry me. Both were irrational. 

Ultimately, I had no doubts that Cullen felt for me what I felt for him. I could recall the moment I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. He came for Dorian and I when we were stranded on the road. He thought I was trying to avoid him, trying to avoid a relationship with him. I warred with myself about whether or not to tell him I loved him. I knew then that I wanted to marry this man, this man who hadn’t even told me he loved me yet. I wondered then why Cullen and I hadn’t broached the topic. I think after the agonizing stress of saying “I love you” first I’ve been avoiding the conversation that will force us to take the next big step in our relationship. Fear can be so paralyzing. But, Mother would surely bring it up, probably as soon as she arrived and set foot upon Skyhold. If Cullen and I hadn’t talked of it yet, I couldn’t even fathom the fear that would grip me discussing it in front of Lady Trevelyan. I knew that I had to mention it to him before she got the chance. I just didn’t know how. The time I had before her arrival to find the courage to do it myself was ticking away quickly.

The War Room had been fairly quiet as of late. Cassandra and Leliana were mutually avoiding each other to some extent due to the increasing Divine rivalry. I thought that both wanted it and didn’t want it to some amount. Vivienne was also a contender, but they didn’t seem as threatened by her as they did of each other. Unsurprisingly, it was only Josephine and Cullen who stood looking over papers spread before them on the War Table. The tactical markers were pushed off to the side. Josephine looked up and forced a smile. Cullen didn’t look up. He turned from me and strode to the window with his hands folded behind his back.

“The Commander and I were just discussing the suitor offerings that began to pour in today, Inquisitor. The Free Marches are in an uproar as they begin sending potential husbands your way. They should start arriving any day now. You’re going to be a busy woman,” she said, handing me a stack of parchment.

Shit. 

Double shit. Now, not only was it time to talk about the idea of marriage, it was also time to tell him that my Mother was responsible for the sending of these suitors. I looked at the top one, moved it to the bottom of the stack to see the one under it, and then the one under that one. Bann, Lord, Bann, Arl, Lord, Bann, Arl. Shit. Too late. I looked up at Cullen. His arms were now crossed over his chest. His gaze was still fixed out the window that his breath had fogged over.

I cleared my throat. “Josephine, will you excuse us please?”

“Surely, Inquisitor,” she said in a polite, sympathetic voice. Her sweet, lilting Antivan accent was a moment of soothing encouragement.

  


I wanted to walk up behind him, have him turn to face me, and propose marriage there on the spot. I knew it wouldn’t happen, perhaps not ever now. I may have been too late.

I walked up to the table, laid my hands on it and hung my head. “Cullen. . .” I couldn’t face him yet. Coward.

“I don’t know what to say to you,” he said softly.

At least he was honest. I could try that.

“I don’t know what to say to you either. I’ve been trying to broach the subject for weeks. I didn’t know how. I’m sorry.” I finally looked at him, his back.

“You’ll have so many men from which to choose. I’ll be sure to make myself scarce.” His breath continued to fog up the glass in front of him. 

Surely, he couldn’t see out any longer. Now, he was just avoiding me.

“No, Cullen! That’s not what I want.”

“Does it matter what you want, Lady Trevelyan?” he asked turning to me, stone-faced.

“Lady Trevelyan is my Mother,” I told him, trying not to let the hurt show.

“Is she?” His eyes narrowed. His brow furrowed.

“I don’t want to be the next Lady Trevelyan. My plan is to stay with the Inquisition, to stay with you.” There, I said it, finally.

“You can’t keep the Bannorn in the Trevelyan family from Skyhold or by marrying a commoner. You will have to marry nobility. That’s why your Mother is coming, isn’t it?” He almost looked hurt. Almost.

I couldn’t stop my voice from raising, both in volume and in pitch. “I wrote to my Mother asking her to come meet YOU! Telling her that I loved you, Cullen.”

His face softened a bit then. “That’s unnecessary now, isn’t it?”

“Stop it! Damn you, stop this! I choose for me. Not her. Not them. I may not be able to stop suitors from parading through Skyhold. I may even have to entertain them for the sake of the Inquisition. But, Maker damn me if I’ll let anyone tell me who to marry!”

He walked around the table towards the door. “Good. Choose for yourself. All I can tell you is that you certainly won’t be marrying me.”

I grabbed him by the arm. “Cullen, my feelings for you haven’t changed. Not one bit. Have yours?”

His voice was flat, his eyes downcast. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was afraid to ask you . . .if you wanted to . . .spend the rest of your life with me? I was afraid that you hadn’t given it any thought, or that perhaps, you had and . . .” I couldn’t go on. It sounded silly. “I thought maybe it wasn’t appropriate to discuss it when so many lives depend on us, when our own future is so uncertain. Every time I walk through that gate, I don’t know if I’ll return.”

He looked at my hand on his arm. He didn’t move.

“It has crossed my mind countless times, Beau,” he admitted with a sigh. “My stomach is in knots when you’re gone, waiting, hoping. I look at that gate so many times a day through my office windows, that I can tell you how many stones wide it is. I’ve thought of my future with you so much that I see . . .” His voice trailed off.

“What?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he said catching my eyes with his.

“It matters to me. You matter to me. Cullen,” I swallowed. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” There. I said it.

He shook his head side-to-side. “It’s unrealistic to think that’s going to happen.”

“I think you’re being dishonest with yourself. We make our own destinies.” I truly believed that.

“Did you put that mark on your hand?” he asked, gesturing with a nod of his head. “We take what’s given to us, and make the best of it.” He started for the door again.

“Is that why you’re still in charge of a Templar order, Knight-Captain?”

He clenched his jaw and turned to me, his eyes angry.

I continued. “No, you’re not. You chose to leave. I didn’t choose this mark, but look at the good I’m doing with it now? It brought me to you, didn’t it?” I looked up at him, hopeful, trying to get through. “Cullen, we don’t have to decide right at this moment if or when we’re going to . . .get married. I know I don’t want to marry someone who is going to walk away from me now, instead of standing by my side. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone who doesn’t love me enough to even meet my Mother. Who I don’t even view as a threat to our relationship, I might add.” I paused, thinking. “And how do I introduce you to her? ‘Boyfriend’ sounds a bit juvenile, don’t you think? Aren’t we too old for ‘boyfriend and girlfriend?’”

He took a step towards me then, smiling from ear-to-ear. “Here I am trying to break it off respectably, and you’re searching to give definition to our relationship.” 

I shrugged, a smirk on my face.

He came over to me, grabbed my hips holding us together, and pressed me against the edge of the table, looking deep into my eyes. “And that’s why I love you. Apparently, I’m yours to command.”

He kissed me, as if we hadn’t kissed in ages, when it had only been a few hours since he had left our bed. It seemed forever ago, though. The breach we had just crossed felt almost too big for a few very long moments.

“So, what do we do now? Do I stand idly by while you entertain suitors to try to gain alliances for the Inquisition, while your Mother thinks she gets to marry you off to the highest bidder? To watch the farce?” His eyes searched mine for answers.

“I want you to meet my Mother and help me convince her what I already know, that we’re perfect for each other. I want her to leave here knowing that her daughter is in a loving relationship with a magnificent man. As to what in the Maker’s name I do with these suitors, your guess is as good as mine. I have no intention of entertaining any of their offers. Perhaps you can help me decide how to handle that. I don’t know what to do.” I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders with the admission. I broke our embrace, steeling myself for the apology on the tip of my tongue.

His watched me, that amber glare piercing any fear I harbored.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t bring it up as soon as I got word from my Mother. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up the first time the idea popped into my head. Although, to be honest, the first time I thought about spending the rest of my life with you was before I even knew your name.” I smiled at the memory of seeing his blonde curls for the first time, wondering what they would feel like passing through my fingers, him beneath me in our bed, trying to shake the image of him naked as I was introduced to him.

His scar curled upward as he read the expression plastered across my face.

A breathy sigh of relief escaped my lips, followed by a smile.  Dare I hope?

He reached out and took my hand. “I thought I’d wait until after the war, to bring up any future we had. Planning for it now seemed improper, somehow. It still does. But, I’ve never wanted to be with anyone the way I want to be with you.” He slowly snaked out the other arm, wrapping it around my waist, pulling me impossibly close to him, anchoring us together. “Nothing could change that. I’m sorry that I pushed you away. Please, don’t withhold things from me?”

It was a question, not an order. He waited for an answer. 

“I won’t. I promise you . . .” What, exactly? “. . .I promise you all of me.”

His lips came down on mine soft at first, then he deepened the kiss, reaching the other arm behind me, holding me up on the tips of my toes. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my lips answering. He picked me up, and sat me upon the table. I placed my hands on the table behind me and leaned backwards, enticing him. The scar curled. He laid me back, covering my body with his, kissing my neck from ear-to-ear.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” he whispered against my throat. “That I didn’t just ask when I knew you’d answer.”

“I will. I’m an open book, for you, Cullen. I’ll tell you anything. All you have to do is ask.” I laid my hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble of his jaw beneath my fingertips.

He turned and pressed a kiss into my palm, once, twice, before folding my hand in his. “One day, when this war isn’t looming over our heads, we’ll talk about how we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.”

A few tears escaped. I let them fall, and nodded my head. He kissed me again. 

“I was too disturbed to discuss it rationally with the Ambassador earlier,” he said. “Let’s go to her and see how best to proceed with . . .all of this.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” I agreed as he pulled me back up to a sitting position. “We should finish this sometime after dark,” I whispered against his lips.

“Minx,” he said against mine.

  


Josephine smiled when she saw us walk into her office hand-in-hand. “Good. Good,” she said smiling. She was a ray of sunshine.

“Cullen and I would like some help, dealing with the offers coming in from the nobles, that you showed us this morning,” I told her, handing over the stack of letters.

“All that time you two spent . . .talking . . .gave me time to work out a plan. We’ll simply let them come to us. Perhaps once a week or once every other week, we hold a large dinner where they can court the Inquisitor in front of everyone to make their show. We accept their gifts. We thank them. We send them updated letters informing them of how their contribution aided the Inquisition, and we leave it at that. She has no obligation to any suitor to do more, unless she had any actual intentions of entertaining the notion of marrying one of them, of course. Which we all know she does not.” Josephine folded her hands on her desk and looked at us both.

“Really, that’s it?” I asked, surprised.

“Well, you’ll have to deal with the endless romantic gestures that they’ll shower you with once they begin to arrive. And each will stay for anywhere from a few days to a few weeks, depending upon their level of commitment. It could end up favoring us more than you know. They’ll bring loads of supplies to help our cause. We could perhaps make matches for other allies by determining the sincerity of the offers received. This could be extremely lucrative for the Inquisition, as well as for the noble families of Thedas.” Josephine’s eyes sparkled at the notion.

“We leave it in your capable hands then, Josephine. Thank you.” I turned to Cullen who had a stark look of awe and shock on his face.

“You’re saying she has to accept some gifts, receive a few visitors, and pretend to entertain these advances?” Cullen asked.

“I understand neither of you spent time in high society. It will be tiring, I assure you. And a few may lash out dejectedly. But, ‘tis only the game. You will learn it. I will teach you. Yes?” she asked, with dainty raised eyebrows.

Cullen walked over to Josephine, took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” she said, glancing in my direction, a sly smile splayed across her lips.

As we walked out the door she cleared her throat. When we turned to look at her, she said, “You two are aware that dealing with the suitors will be the least of your worries. I hear things about Lady Trevelyan. Oh, and Cullen, you can’t let on that you and the Inquisitor are . . .together, not to any of the suitors. You’re going to have to sneak into your own quarters.”

“Great,” Cullen said, the sarcasm dripping.

Exciting! I thought.

  


The suitors indeed began to arrive within the next few days. My Mother, who had to wait for the escort to reach her, then had to travel across the Waking Sea and through the Frostbacks to get to Skyhold didn’t arrive until several days later. Lady Trevelyan arrived with all of the honor and dignity I had expected. You’d think she was an Arlessa, or even a Viscountess with the entourage which she had in tow. Two footmen and a driver managed her coach and four, pulled by Imperial Warmbloods.

“She had horses imported to the eastern shore of the Free Marches from Tevinter? And brought them all the way here?” Cullen asked.

“Yes. We may not have an Arldom, but we’re old money. All of her children lived in Circles. She had to spend money on something. Horses, wine, furs. My Mother is no slouch,” I told him.

“Now, I’m nervous,” he admitted.

“You should be,” I affirmed.

The footmen were on the ground before the coach had even come to a halt. I could see my Mother through the window when she opened the curtain. There were two serving ladies in the coach with her. They were all bundled up. The trek through the Mountain pass would have been wrought with bitter winds. She’s lucky that a road had to be built to get supplies to Skyhold. There was no such road when we first arrived to Skyhold. But, the weather inside of the keep was perpetual autumn, by some old magic that lived deep in its walls. 

A footman opened the door. Mother stepped out of the carriage and immediately threw off her ermine trimmed mantle. She walked towards me with open arms. “Darling, did you order this weather? It’s divine here!”

“No, Mother, I can’t order the weather. But, I’m glad you like it,” I said, embracing her.

She hugged me long and hard. Her hair, pinned up in her traveling up-do, tickled my nose. The color that once mirrored my own, now had streaks of distinguished grey throughout, more so than even the last time I saw her before the Conclave. She kissed my cheek, still holding me. “I’m so glad I still have you,” she whispered hoarsely against my face.

I shut my eyes tight against the tears threatening to spill over. “Me too, Momma.”

Mimi and Kiki, her “girls” as she called them, dutifully supervised the unloading of her trunks from the back of the coach.

“I’m a bit surprised you brought your own coach, Mother,” I said when she released me to see what was taking them so long.

“Well, your armed escort, while they were incredibly good guards, failed to bring one. Which is fine, because I prefer my own. We had no troubles on our journey. They deserve commendations if you ask me,” she said, nodding to each of them.

“That’s very high praise, Mother. I’m sure that our Commander here will see to it that they are properly acknowledged. Mother, let me introduce you to Commander Cullen Stanton Rutherford.” I anxiously turned to look at him over my shoulder.

He stepped forward bowing to her. She reached out her hand, which he took to bestow a kiss upon her knuckles. Holding her hand in both of his he straightened to his full height. He was a good foot taller than her.

“The pleasure of your acquaintance is all mine, Lady Trevelyan,” he said meeting her steely grey gaze.

I watched my Mother’s eyes, for the first time in years, widen as she looked over him from head to toe. When her eyes once again reached his she smiled, lifted her eyebrows coquettishly, and said, “Are you quite sure you’re not of noble blood, then, Commander Rutherford?”

The scar curled as I had only seen it do when he talked to me. “Yes, Lady Trevelyan. And please, call me Cullen.”

My Mother made a dignified noise in the back of her throat and narrowed her eyes at him.

He extended a bent arm to her. “May I escort you to your quarters?”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, please. Daughter, come along. Girls follow.”

The gaggle of foreign nobles parted ways as we strode through towards the guest wing of Skyhold. Lady Trevelyan might as well have been the Queen Regent of Skyhold.

  


Mother and Cullen talked of the strange weather within the keep, and of the proper compensation for the men that escorted her from Ostwick. They agreed to an extra week’s ration of ale as that was how long she had spent with them. She was delighted by their company and their capabilities. The soldiers who were handpicked by Cullen for the endeavor were the best in their fields, while still not being officers, which we could not spare for such a journey. The men were more than happy to undertake the task of escorting the Inquisitor’s mother to Skyhold, especially since the vast majority of the journey was along the warm Summer coast of the Free Marchers, which was currently embroiled in neither war nor Blight.

When we arrived at Mother’s quarters Cullen poured and offered her a glass of good Tevinter red wine, which I was sure to have well stocked for her arrival. She took one sip, then a longer one before setting down her glass, and arching her back for a good stretch. The escorts and girls arrived with her luggage.

“Do you wish us to unpack, milady?” Mimi asked. She was a slender, young girl who had emigrated from Fereldan after the Blight. Her hair was flame red, and her skin pale and freckled. She had been with Mother for ten years now, and was several years younger than myself.

“Not now, Mimi. You and Kiki see if the boys need any help with the carriage. Then, all of you can get some refreshment and have a rest. You girls can return, unpack, and settle into your room afterward. Thank you,” she said, graciously.

The girls nodded, and left the room quietly closing the door behind them.

“Now then, Cullen,” Mother began.

Oh, no. Here it goes. She was starting. Mother was not shy.

“My daughter says she loves you,” she said, as she walked around the room taking stock of her surroundings. “I must know, do you love her in kind?” She stopped in front of him, looking up at his face, hands on her hips.

Without a moment of hesitation, he said, “Yes. She is my everything.”

“Oh! Well, that’s not exactly what I was expecting. But, it is an honest answer, if ever I heard one,” she replied smiling, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

“What is it you were expecting, exactly?” Cullen asked her, boldly.

“Men are fickle, especially men in power. In my experience they rarely speak of love, let alone act with it. Perhaps that is where the common folk differ from the nobility, though,” she surmised.

I stood next to him, and reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. He squeezed in return.

“I knew this was going to happen to my children, all being raised in the Circle, not in society. How your father, may he be at the Maker’s side, ever thought we’d continue the Bannhood with five mages as heirs I’ll never know.” She sat in the big armchair next to the table that held the wine.

Cullen refilled her glass, and handed it to her. She took three long swallows. Then, held it back out. He refilled it again, along with a couple of glasses for us.

“These are the options with which we are left,” she began. “Sit down, the two of you. You’re making me nervous.”

We sat together on the love seat across from her with our wine. 

He crossed one leg over the other, and balanced his glass on the arm of the sofa. “Do tell, Lady Trevelyan.”

“I’ll start with the least likely option. Isabeau chooses a suitable nobleman for a husband. Perhaps one who prefers the company of men. The two of you continue your relationship.”

I shook my head.

“That’s what I expected. But, I had plenty of time to think of all the possibilities, mind you. Option two: I do some digging into Cullen’s background. I’m sure we can find a noble bastard in there somewhere. And if not, we make one up! The Free Marchers aren’t likely to know the difference when it comes to Fereldan nobility. The Banndom stays in the Trevelyan family, but now we’re Rutherfords.”

Cullen looked at me sideways, then at Mother to see if she was serious.

“I’m as serious as the Blight, son,” she declared.

“Lady Trevelyan-” Cullen was interrupted.

“Call me Elsbeth. I’m already calling you ‘son,’ now aren’t I?” she said with mocked indignity.

“Elsbeth, I’m an honest man. I suppose if you somehow found nobility in my bloodlines that would be one thing. But, I cannot feign it, though I am extremely honored at your suggestion. However, I do not even have the desire to rule your Bannorn,” Cullen said, humbly.

Mother leaned forward. “Young man, my husband and three sons are dead. There are no other men in our family. Elsbie has never even so much as looked at another human being with desire in her eyes, probably because her older sister snagged all of the female sexuality when she was born.”

Cullen glanced at me, his scar curling. “She is quite insatiable.”

“She was flirting before she could walk. Her brothers were the same way. Elsbie is the exception, and we love her. But, I cannot rely on her for this. If the Banndom cannot fall to you, then it will go to city-state council and be redistributed. I will lose everything.” The look on her face broke my heart.

“Mother, that is only three options. Surely you have more,” I prodded.

“Yes.” She straightened again to her regal posture. “He could take our name. As a Commoner, if he decides to take the Trevelyan name through marriage, he will in all essence be a Trevelyan. But, he’ll have to leave the name of ‘Rutherford’ behind. That’s something I think most men are not prepared to do. Otherwise, I could petition the council to declare him nobility based on his position with the Inquisition, which is feasible, although time consuming. And lastly, I believe at this stage the Inquisition can declare its own nobles, it seems to be able to do whatever it wants otherwise, from what I hear.”

“What? Really?” I asked, shocked. I hadn’t thought of the Inquisition that way. But, I suppose in all actuality it had become its own city-state. Perhaps my Free Marcher nature had influenced the movement more than I recognized.

“Darling, from what reaches my ears, the Inquisition is currently the most powerful force in all of Thedas. Cullen is the Commander of its armed forces, and my daughter is the Inquisitor herself. If you say he’s a noble, then he’s a noble. That’s what it boils down to. No need to lie. Just declare it. It really is that simple.” She looked back and forth between our silent faces.

I looked at Cullen, my eyes full of questions. He looked at me the same way.

“The only other option is for me to take a husband myself. And I’m unlikely to find one without family of his own who would take the Banndom away from the family, which is what I’m trying to avoid in the first place. Also, I’m not getting married again. Why doesn’t Isabeau have a ring on her finger, son?” Mother asked.

His eyes didn’t leave mine. “I haven’t, um, actually asked her to marry me,” Cullen answered.

“Is all this for naught,then? I thought you two were serious!” Mother’s glass clinked on the marble tabletop as she set it down heavier than necessary in her astonishment.

“I am. We are. I just . . .I haven’t been able to procure one yet,” Cullen admitted, ashamed.

Mother twisted a ring off the ring finger on her right hand, the ring that belonged to my father’s mother. The diamond was large, round, and surrounded by rubies. She handed it to Cullen. “Give this to her.”

He stared at the sparkling ring she dropped into his hand. He looked up at me, his eyes darting to and fro.

My mouth dropped. The ring of Lady Trevelyan! This was unexpected, to say the least.

He began to scoot off the sofa.

“No! You can’t do it now!” She exclaimed. We have to spend the next few months entertaining offers from all the schmucks. Why in Andraste’s name is this place so big? You could practically house all the young noblemen of Thedas in this keep. She can’t receive suitors with that big rock on her finger. Now, you have to wait until the time is right. It will give the both of you something to look forward to, besides . . .”

“You were going to propose!” I exclaimed, my eyes wide, my heartbeat so fast that I thought I might die in that moment.

“I am. I’m going to ask you to marry me, one day,” he smirked. “I guess all we have to do now is figure out how to make me a nobleman.”

I grabbed his face and kissed him.

I heard Mother make that noise in her throat again, and refill her glass.


End file.
